


Soulful

by jubunu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, No Cursing, Original Character Death(s), Original Character Suicide, Wordcount: Over 100.000, unintentional self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-02-21 20:55:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 30
Words: 132,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2482124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jubunu/pseuds/jubunu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A curious case of terrible luck and blocked memories throws a young woman named June into a fight to discover her past and fight to survive the present. The Winchesters get a hold of this strange woman and accompany her on an adventure with surprising twists on every corner, where there are more shadows than light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heavenly Embraces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First impressions make a lasting imprint on the young and interesting June Howe as the child visits a rather uplifting land for a short while, due to unfortunate yet impermanent circumstances.

A creak from the old wood floor through the worn, pale rug jostled the toddler from her light sleep. June mumbled groggily and hoisted herself up on her frail elbows, her sleepy eyes still half closed and heavy with slumber. Blinking her grey eyes a few times to clear the haze from her vision, she stared ahead into the dark room. A bit of moonlight swam in through her window, folding around the shape of a woman crossing the room.

"Mommy?" She mumbled as a smile pulled across her mouth. The woman did not respond, and the innocent smile fell from the girl's pink lips. "Mommy?" She repeated.

"Shh," was the only reply as the woman placed the back of her hand on the child's forehead and pulled the pillow from behind her. Quicker than June could register, the cushion was folded and pressed against her face, smashing her light blonde curls into the mattress. Her cries and shouts were drowned out by the instantly tear-soaked pillow, her tiny fingers clawing at the arm firmly locking the pillow to June's face. She cried and gasped for air but it could not come.

Soon the world around her- her own shouts, the pillow on her skin, and the bed beneath her- everything began to fade. The contrasts and the shadows danced together into one big, grey blur and her hands stilled and dropped to the bed beside her. There was a ringing, a white noise growing in her ears, in her head, deafening her of everything but her mind. And after an undetermined amount of time, everything stopped. No feeling, no sight, no noise- absolute, complete nothing. It wasn't a frightening absence, more of a peace. And then the warmth, light, a feeling so wonderful it could heal her of any doubts or sadness that could ever enter her small skull. It all came back very slowly, one thing at a time. A warmth on her face and arms. A coolness below her, that eventually spit out the tickling of grass under her back. The last thing to return was the feel of her own body, a sense of where her limbs were, how they were doing, and that she could still use them. There was a smell that could only be described as pleasant memories from her past, most from the park across the street.

After a wonderful amount of time reminiscing and relaxing, the curious blonde opened her eyes, staring straight up into the bluest sky imaginable. A few clouds dusted the sky, all fluffy and pure as cotton, and she brought her still-slightly-numb hands to rub her eyes as she slowly sat up. Two men and a woman were sitting around her, none of which she had ever seen before. But they gave off an air of comfort, and their curious eyes only helped to quicken June's mind in its attempt to keep up with what was happening.

"Where am I?" She asked quietly, the words barely passing her own ears. Though it didn't matter, for the face of the closest man perked up to show he had heard, and looked her over.

"You're in heaven." He replied, a soft smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes as he continued to look at her.

"Oh. Where is Daddy?" She quipped. The man sighed, his dirty blonde hair falling in front of his ears as he walked toward her and sat down with a huff on the grass next to her, resting his fingers on his knees and looking around. This prompted the child to do the same, and she took in her new surroundings. It was a replica of the park she had grown up in, the same dirt patches under each swing, the moss-covered picnic benches that could do with a little tough love. All the way to the big open field with the wild raspberry bushes that weaved through the chain-link fence at the far end opposite of them.

"Your dad isn't here. He's still on earth, where you were. June, do you know what happened?"

"Heather was with me. She hurt me." The girl said, locking eyes with the new man. "Who are you?" Her voice had grown louder, but not in an upset kind of way- it was actually her bubbly curiosity and acceptance that furrowed down the man's eyebrows.

"I am Gabriel. I am an angel," he motioned at the others, "We are all angels."

"You live in the pa-ark?" She asked, her words still needing more practice, for she had only been alive for four short years.

"No. This is heaven, it only looks like the park. Angels live in heaven." Gabriel replied with a laugh, still keeping his eyes on her.

"Oh." June smoothed the clothes she was wearing, only just noticing her change of attire into a plain white dress- the one her mother had bought her only weeks before. "Is Mommy here?"

"No, June. It's just you and the angels here, for now." Finally the angel's curious hazel eyes pulled from the slender girl's figure and he hoisted himself to his feet.

"Oh." She muttered. Gabriel stuck his hands into the pocket of his casual clothing, and the woman stepped forward.

"Do you know what angels are?" She asked with a smooth voice, her head tilting to the side and a strand of hair falling from her pulled-back bangs and across her forehead. June nodded her head and crawled to her knees, then her feet. She was barefoot, and the grass felt cold yet refreshing. She peered up at the woman and tilted her head the same direction,

"Angels are good. Daddy knows angels from the bay-ble."

"Bible." The woman corrected. "We watch over the humans, and act upon the will of the Lord." June's eyebrows dropped and she glanced at Gabriel at a loss. Gabriel chuckled in response, looking toward a shaded spot where the sun was blocked out by the limbs of an elderly oak tree. He held his hand out toward June and she gratefully took with a genuine smile.

Once the three angels and the girl were nestled in the shade in a semicircle with all the angels watching June, Gabriel spoke up once again.

"Are you okay?" He asked. She had been so calm. Immediately accepting their words with only few questions, trusting them completely. Most young kids cried, to be honest. She seemed to not be afraid of her lack of parents nor the unfamiliar place, but rather curious over everything instead. She had refused to sit and had wandered to the tree, pressing her hand against the bark. As Gabriel's word entered her ears she turned around and smiled at the group,

"Yeah," she stated honestly with wide, observing eyes before she turned to crouch at the roots of the tree, entertaining herself with some leaves gathered there.

"Gabriel." The woman angel chirped stiffly.

"Yes, Chamel?" He said, rolling his head lazily toward her, his eyes lingering on June before finally meeting the angel's brown gaze.

"Her soul." She stated, but the two words were enough. Nodding his head in agreement, he stared at the four year old with interest.

"Never seen one stronger, in all my many, _many_ years." He chided with an amused grin and raised eyebrows.

A gasp from the toddler brought the angels' attention straight to her turned back, as her formed flickered half-transparent. She looked up with the white of her eyes showing, but only for a second was there fear. Instead, a look of awe crossed her countenance and she glanced between her flickering hands and the stern face of Gabriel. Her look of wonder was enough to push the angel over the edge of curiosity for the strange girl. "You're okay kid. It looks like you're gonna go back home pretty soon." The male angel strutted forward, kneeling down in front of her. She could feel herself slipping, a fog filling her mind, but she still brought her storm-grey eyes to meet the angel's.

After a few seconds of seeming deliberations in Gabriel's features, he dropped both knees to the ground and rolled his shoulders. Slowly, a barely visible glow of glimmering wings appeared and encased the two. Staring in awe, June stuck her hand out to reach for one, but her hand fell short and she glanced at Gabriel. In response, he snapped his fingers lightly and a thin, translucent feather appeared between his pinched thumb and pointer finger- a feather from his own wings. As quickly as they had appeared, the sight of Gabriel's wings vanished from the child's eyes, and she stared down at the feather. "You're different. And this will always remind you that you are." He reached up and pressed the feather into the bottom layer of her hair, where it attached and stayed as if were a simple strand of hair. He grunted as he stood and looked down at her with intrigued eyes. "Stay golden, kid." His voice echoing around in June's head.

Suddenly more sounds, faded, but still clear, entered her ears as her vision flashed. Once, twice, a blackness tried to take away her vision of the heaven around her. The sound of someone calling her name, of rushed voices, shrill sounds in the distance. Everything was quiet at first, but it quickly became louder and clearer as her vision completely blacked out and the numbness from before returned with strong vengeance.

"June? Come on, baby, come on." The sound of air followed, and a cold wind rushed over and into her form. The fog grew thicker and she felt prickling on the ends of her fingers and toes. "Come on, Baby. June, Juney-bug, come on. Wake up." A rush forced into her body and she immediately longed to have the numbness return. All too quickly feeling returned into her body, and she felt cold air being sucked into her lungs. Realizing she hadn't been breathing, the child gasped and coughed, the air too rough against her dry throat. She opened her eyes halfway but it only burned from a light too close to her dilated pupils. She whimpered and felt something envelop around her- someone's arms. She knew those arms, the familiar feel, and the smell.

"Daddy." She croaked quietly as she smashed her face into the crook of her father's neck. There were more shouts and she forced her grey eyes open at the same time as someone picked her up. She gasped, but calmed as her father gripped her hand and she was laid down on a gurney. Her vision began to fade again until it was completely lost. Barely able to hear the frantic calls of her name from multiple voices, she chose to let them slip away, to shut them out. They were too loud, and she was so tired.

"Don't sleep yet, kid." The familiar voice of Gabriel filled her head. Startlingly fast, much faster than her first visit, she found the sight of her heaven once again unrolled before her eyes. She looked up with a confused frown at Gabriel, who was standing beside her. She was sitting in a cross-legged position, her hands pressed firmly into the ground with her fingers woven into the smooth blades of grass.

"Why am I back here?" She mumbled and cocked her head to the side.

"Only for a little while. You got hurt, and they are trying to fix you up." He said as he plopped down in the grass beside her, like before. "You gotta stay awake though, don't you wanna know what happens? You _are_ very curious, kitten." June surprised him with a giggle that crinkled her lightly freckled nose. She had once again exceeded his expectations of panic with wonder and seemingly endless joy.

"I wanna see." She replied, Gabriel understanding her meaning to say she 'wanted to know', despite her use of the word 'see'. "Are angels people?" She countered with her own question. Gabriel look at her with a raised eyebrow and then looked ahead of them at the tree, currently shading a few picnic tables and a fourth of the green, grassy field. "Angels were created by God. God created everything- angels, and humans, and even the whole world, Earth. We are... different, from you guys. I mean, you saw my wings." He said with a chuckle, poking his finger into the girl's hair where the feather rested hidden in her blonde curls. She giggled again and curled her little hands, bringing them to her mouth happily. Her form flickered and she fell to the side. Gabriel caught her arm and laid her down, watching as she lost consciousness and began to fade like a wisp of a cloud rising into the sky. Watching peacefully, the angel was almost startled by a voice from close behind him.

"Gabriel. I have word. Orders from high." Chamel stated. Gabriel scoffed,

"About her, I assume?"

"Yes. June Alea Howe is to be under surveillance. Her soul's unusual condition has placed her under the interests of those high in the command. No contact is to be made." With a curt nod- though he didn't even glance in the woman's direction- he agreed. But of course, he himself was high up on the chain of command, and this girl was something else entirely- her soul was quadruple the strength of the average soul, and she was still only a child. Of course she struck interest for him as well.

A few more times June was tossed between consciousness and heaven, but her park was starkly void of all angelic hosts of heaven each arrival and departure.


	2. Burned Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All grown up, but with a few gaps in the ol' memory, it looks like bad luck's still sticking to June.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A jump ahead, with gaps to-be-filled-in along the way.

"Ruth?" June asked, setting the paper bag of groceries on the marble island counter as she padded barefoot into the house. She smiled and ran her hand through her hair, pulling it all into her hand then flicking the blonde curls over her shoulders. She turned and closed the screen door behind her, placing her hands into her back pockets and wandering to the open back door. Ruth scuffled along the small stone path, the branches and leaves of her vivacious garden bowing over her head. "Ruth." The older woman's head twisted over her shoulder and she flitted her hands about happily,

"Oh, oh you're back!" She said turning and practically skipping over to June, "Did you get my apples, for the pie for Mr. Barner?"

"Yes, of course Nana, how could I forget?" Crossing her arms, the eighteen year old glanced over her shoulder with a grin and pinched a tomato leaf between her thumb and pointer as Ruth scooted around her and slipped into the house. Only two days before, Robert Barner had congratulated June at her High School graduation by giving her a beautiful bouquet, an arms worth of home-grown tropical flowers. And Ruth, well, she's always looking for an excuse to visit her old friend only two houses down the street. Following Ruth into the house as the sound of pans being shifted around echoed from the kitchen, June watched her with a soft smile playing across her lips.

Her memories didn't go back too far with Ruth, but they didn't go back much further either. The pale-haired elder had taken June into her home when June had only been a curious ten year old. Baggy tee shirts and torn up jeans, June was constantly outside of the foster facility, digging up worms and bringing beetles into her room. She loved the outdoors, and had actually been out in the front of the main office when Ruth first spotted the youngin', digging a two-foot-deep hole in the well-managed grounds.

 _"Child, if you're digging to China, best not do it where the secretaries can see you." Ruth said slyly, stopping to stand casually in front of the kid. The young girl's_ _head flicked up quickly as her hands froze, her arms up to her elbows in the ground. She giggled quietly and sat down on the ground, crossing her dirt-caked legs and craning her neck up to grin at the older woman._

_"I'm sorry. My pet, he died, and I wanted to bury him where he could see all the people that walk by on the sidewalk." The young June motioned with her hand toward the woman, "Lots of people walk by, like you, and Ralph, he liked people. I could tell." She let her eyes fall to the small cardboard box next to her, picking it up in her frail hands and sliding the lid off. She reached in and, with her hands cupped around a small toad, pulled them out and pursed her lips. Ruth's eyes squinted in a sympathetic smile, and she crouched down to the girl's eye level despite her creaky knees._

_"That's a very nice thing of you to do. What's your name?"_

_"June Howe. I live her," She jammed her thumb over her shoulder at the brick building resting a good twenty feet behind her, "With the other girls." She glanced over at the building then looked back, grinning at the woman. "You're Ruth. I see you on the corner of the block sometimes, when you wait for the bus. I waited there once to go ride it, and I heard your name. But Anna said I couldn't go on the bus, I had to stay home." Rather surprised, Ruth smiled curiously as she thought back, trying to bring her well-used mind to capture the memory she faintly remembered the girl describing. "But this isn't my home, just a place that I live in for now."_

_"That must have been over a month ago, you must have some memory." Ruth said with a soft cackle. June beamed and placed the small toad into the hole, looking down into it. Out of habit, she brought her hand up to her neck and tangled it in her hair for a few seconds, staring down at the hole before a smile appeared across her previously solemn visage. "Are you here to see Anna? Lots of people come here to see Anna."_

_"Well, I- Yes. I guess I can pop in and say hello. Thank you, June." Ruth said with a warm grin. June laughed again and began filling the hole as Ruth rose back to her feet and crossed over to the sidewalk that lead a weaved path through some well-trimmed trees to the front doors of the office. Anna was the head of the staff organized there, in charge of meeting new clients to connect with the girls._

_The office was the head of a large semicircle that surrounded a small playground. Of the buildings, there were the small educational facility, the housing buildings where the foster children lived with chaperons, the lunch area, and a few other office buildings. It was a small program, set up by the government to help find homes for foster children, such as June._

_Little was known about June when she showed up with a dark haired woman, claiming to be the child's previous foster mother. She stated she could not keep the child clinging to her hand, and the meeting to talk about June's past had been cancelled when the previous foster mother- named Olivia- seemingly disappeared. No one could get a hold of her in any way, and June herself could only remember up to a few days previous. Many doctor's appointments confirmed that her jumpy behavior and initial social seclusion were seen in cases of abuse. Assigned to a therapist, they concluded that June had blocked out her memories in order to protect herself- and after weeks of sessions, she still boldly proclaimed she simply could not remember anything, and they let it go for the time being. Besides not remembering her past, she was incredibly smart for a ten year old mystery kid, and happier than any other kid they'd seen pass through the facility. Why poke the balloon if you don't want it to pop?_

_Things came and passed, visits became frequent, and Ruth ended up taking June home as her own on the kid's eleventh birthday. Been a pair for seven long years full of school, life, and a whole lot-a love._

"June, child, you still with me?"

"Yes, yes, sorry, what were you saying?" June quipped and walked to lean on the counter, her young face smiling at Ruth, who was crouched and messing with the cracked dials of the oven.

"Will you go get the flour from the pantry?"

"Yep." She chirped and padded to the skinny door, opening it as it protested with a whiny creak of the hinges. When she pulled the small bag of flour from under the almost-empty jar of brown sugar, she closed the door but paused to look over it. Pinned on it were her most recent achievements- a picture of her with Ruth taped to a copy of her diploma. She smiled and placed the flour on the counter as the distant ring of a phone entered her ears. With a sigh she turned and jogged through the kitchen, hopped over the short coffee table, and bounded up the stairs to the only currently working phone in the house- in the hallway outside her bedroom door. She pick it up and pressed the familiar plastic to her ear.

"Miller's residence, this is June."

"Just the sweet little soul I was hoping to talk to." June's eyebrows furrowed deeply- she didn't recognize the man's scratchy voice.

"I'm sorry, who is this again?"

"Why, my name is Adam. I'm surprised you don't recognize me."

"I- I'm sorry, Adam _who_?" She shifted her feet and planted her free hand on her hip. A faint tickle in the back of her mind told her she should know the voice and name, but not a single face nor memory seemed to connect with him.

"You should be honored to be speaking to me, Juney-bug, as an equal. Last time we met, I believe you were far inferior. And rather in quite a... bind." His words threw the chill he had intended down June's arms and she leaned her forehead against the wall for a few seconds before walking into her bedroom and closing the door lightly behind her, leaving a small crack open. "You were just a little one then. So small, frail."

"Sir, you're going to have to have to remind me. When was this? I'm not sure you have the right person." But of course she knew she was wrong. Juney-bug. No one had ever called her Juney-bug, no one she remembered. But the nickname rung old, forgotten bells in the back of her head. He must have been from her past.

"Why, how about we just meet up. But not there, seeing its current condition." Freezing in place, the girl pulled her hand through her hair and mumbled, "What do you mean," at the same time as her door clicked shut in front of her. Dropping the phone onto her patchwork-quilt-covered bed, she jumped to the door and turned the handle, pressing against the unrelenting door. She slapped her palm against the wood.

"Ruth?" She turned in a circle with her hands on her head, then brought her foot up and pressed against the door without success. "Why won't it open? What the heck?" She dropped against it and held her shoulder to it, shoving. A warmth seeped through from the other side, and movement at her feet drew her eyes slowly down with trepidation. Smoke rolled in from underneath and her breathing increased tenfold. "Ruth!" She screeched and continued banging on the door. It wasn't long before smoke was creating a cloud on the ceiling. Dropping to her knees, the frightened young woman pressed her head to the floor and peered under the door, trying in vain to search for something, anything. There was a flash in front of her and she fell onto her side, scrambling from the door as the bottom edge caught fire. She gasped and cried out, smoky tears slipping from the rims of her grey eyes. She shuffled to the bed and shakily picked up the phone and put it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Still here, child." She instantly hung up the phone and dialed in the three numbers drilled into her head since she was a child. As soon as it was picked up she didn't even give the woman on the other end time to form a full sentence.

"Four three two four Overly Lane. Third house down, sunflowers in front, orange walls, stain glass windows. There's a fire." Her voice must have been cracking more than she though, because the woman began to over-speak her.

"Miss, I need you to stay calm. We are sending people there now. I need you to stay on the line. Who is there?"

"My name is June, I'm eighteen, and upstairs, trapped. My Nana, Ruth, she was in the kitchen- I, I don't-" Her voice broke and she pressed her hand against her mouth to trap in a sob. "I don't know what-"

"Ma'am, you need to stay calm." With a glance at the flames creeping up the door, all 'calm' she had slipped up into the smoke. Setting the phone down, she moved to the door, and hesitated before kicking. It shook and complained, but stayed standing. She grunted and kicked again, dodging the flames that danced near her ankle. She kicked again, and once more, before the door gave out and she toppled onto it. She screamed and rolled off of it, her palms burning from landing on the singed wood. She crawled backward as smoke filled her vision.

"Ruth?" She croaked, regretting it instantly as smoke poured into her mouth. June cradled her hands in shock for a few seconds. Then she heaved her body and rolled to her hands and knees, crawling to the top of the stairs. The entire bottom floor was solid flames. The sight sucked the breath from her lungs, and pushed solid streams of tears down her cheeks, dripping warm, salty tears onto her splayed-out hands on the now blackened carpet. She could hear sirens, but the sound didn't even reach her mind, it simply became background noise. The house shifting loudly around her brought her to attention.

There was a bang and the grinding of wood below her from the kitchen door, and the sound of the siren rushed in, but the sound wasn't the only thing bursting through. The house was now able to intake a hungry breath of outside air, and it carried in, pushing the fire up into the mostly untouched upper level. June screamed and covered her head, heat swirling and licking at her crumpled form. Her vision faded and black spots began to pop up in the corners. She could barely hear the voice of a man shouting before everything went black. Except the heat. The heat stayed, caressing her body, until her mind couldn't processes any senses at all. Then nothing; a feeling that felt oddly familiar, and for reasons unknown to her, comforting.


	3. Bone-deep Mysteries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mysterious x-ray leads to unwanted publicity, forcing June into the shadows in order to uncover her past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, sorry if I make any grammar-oopsies. Don't worry, Winchesters coming soon.

At first there was only numbness. June could not decide if it had been minutes nor hours. No feeling, no sounds, and complete blackness where the dancing flames had been previously. Then suddenly hot liquid shot into her veins, traveling first from her arm then spreading. All the while she could feel it marching like ants in a line toward her heart, and then pain. Burning, searing pain like she had been holding her breath for way too long, but in her entire chest cavity.

She felt her entire world spin, even her position changed- she was laying on her back, on something firm but with some give to it. She pried her eyes open only to snap them shut again for the light above her felt like acid creeping into her head through her eyes. Only then did she realize someone was talking to her over the sound of multiple machines beeping, as air was being pushed into her lungs without her consent. She whimpered and shoved herself to a sitting position. That only made everything worse, so when a hand was placed on her shoulder she dropped back down with even the slightest push. Deciding her curiosity was currently stronger than her pain, she slowly opened her eyes again, then began to panic. There was something in her throat, and she couldn't breathe. She coughed and wheezed, feeling her head spin as she fought to get air into her lungs. A woman was in front of her, though June didn't know how long she had been there, and was shouting something at her.

"Calm down, you need to relax. Let it breathe for you. Relax." But confusion was getting the best of her and June moved to tug at it, luckily her arm didn't reach it, though that alerted her of a prickly IV planted into the crook of her elbow. She had never been fond of needles. Her jumbled mind slowly realized she was in a hospital.

The nurse disappeared out of the young woman's sight, and June tilted her head to watch her scuffle into the hallway. Her eyes continued to trail, following her IV's chain to its hanging bag, as well as the small tube she was fighting against all to the way to its large, beeping machine. Watching the lights on the machine, her focus had slipped from her throat to trying to read the words that were a little blurry, and suddenly air was once again entering her body. The feeling was wonderful, it was cold air filling up her lungs which had started to feel like deflated balloons. The nurse returned with a doctor and they instructed her through getting the tube out.

Once it was out she was glad to be able to breath on her own, even if her throat felt raw. She took the relaxing few minutes to inspect her body. Her palms were wrapped with a thin layer of gauze, lightly burned from the fire, and her head still felt like there might be a miniature cloud of smoke in her skull like it had been in the ceiling of her bedroom. Her room, home-

"Ruth?" She croaked, a surprised and ragged laugh slipping from her mouth at her very scratchy voice before she became serious once more. "Where's Ruth? Where's my Nana?" No one was in the room, therefore she slipped her legs off the side of the bed and tested them. The floor was like ice, and her legs were a little wobbly, but she seemed mostly alright. A man walked in holding a rather large packet in his arms and held out his hands at her with a hint of anger.

"You need to lay back down, you shouldn't be standing."

"Sorry. Where's Ruth? My Nana, she- she was in the house too." The doctor looked at her for a few seconds, holding the packet out for her to see. It was a large manila folder with so many papers in it that it looked like some were barely held in there.

"I'd like to discuss a few things with you first." He stood at the foot of the bed and smacked it once to silently ask her again to sit. June got the feeling he wasn't going to ask again and obeyed, sitting with her legs hanging over the side comfortably. "What is your name? You said June on the phone, I believe."

"Yes. June Alea Howe. I'm eighteen, Ruth is my Foster parent, and she adopted me when I was ten." Her voice was starting to feel a little better and she smiled softly at the man. "Is she okay?"

"I still have some more questions. Are you aware of your injuries?"

"My hands hurt a little, and I feel like I have temporary smoker's lungs."

"Yes. You inhaled a lot of smoke in the fire, your hands are burned, as well as the bottom of your feet and some irritation on your back." With each that he mentioned, the injuries he identified seemed to know their names and began to hurt one by one as he went down the list. She craned her neck over her shoulder to look down at her back where the fabric of the hospital gown was split until the small of her back. It was red, as expected, and her scars were still there. The long horizontal lines on her back were a mystery to her. She knew it must have been from before she was ten, in the time she couldn't remember. Every once in a while little snippets of her reclusive past popped in, therefore she remembered a few faces, but they didn't have names yet. Two women, and two men. She assumed parents and other people, for all were adults.

When she looked back over, the Doctor was putting some x-rays up on a small back-lit panel on the wall, though the light wasn't on yet so she couldn't quite see them.

"My name is Clark Frendez. I'm going to show you some x-rays we took while you were unconscious. You were asleep for 9 hours. These are of your ribs. They are… very strange, I should warn you. You've got us all baffled kid. Do you know anything about this?" The light clicked on and June leaned forward, her golden curls dropping over her shoulders as her eyes widened. On her ribs, every available space of bone had incredibly detailed carvings covering the surface. Circles, symbols, shapes, lines, dashes, dots- it looked like someone had written all over them in a language unknown to her.

"What the heck?"

"That's pretty much what we said. Have you ever had any surgery before?"

"Nothing since I was ten, but I don't know my past before that."

"You don't remember your first ten years?" Her curls bounced lightly as she shook her head, then bit her lip.

"Where's Ruth?" Frendez seemed to look her over, almost sizing her up then set his packet down on the table under the x-rays. He seemed to deem her worthy of his full answer and sucked in a breath as he gathered his words together carefully.

"Ruth is in a coma. She has been since the fire. We've got her hooked to a lot of machines, June. She's stable for now, but all of her vitals are weak." June's smile instantly dropped at the same time as her eyes spit out a few tears down her cheeks.

"Is she gonna be okay?" Her voice cracked, but she was more focused on the walls of her world that were starting to crumble.

"We'll do the best we can." Now holding back sobs with the weak palm of her hand pressed tightly against her lips, she closed her eyes and shook lightly as she sucked in some whimper-like breaths. There was a shuffle and she opened her eyes to see a man in a police uniform walk in, followed by a reporter lugging a large camera over his shoulder like a parrot perched on a pirate's stiff shoulder. She wiped her eyes and attempted to straighten up.

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you a few questions about the fire," The officer started as the reporter turned the camera to sweep around the room. The doctor raised his hand and went to speak, but the reporter got there first.

"Are these your ribs?" He asked with a baffled tone, his jaw hanging rudely open. The doctor snatched the images from the light box and placed them back into the folder.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Ms. Howe is not stable yet to be under any forms of duress just yet." Both new men completely ignored the doctor, who in response shoved through them, probably to grab security. The reporter, bless his confused heart, picked up the file clearly labeled 'confidential' and pulled the black plastic sheets back out.

"How did you do this?" Still in a rather panicked state, June shook her head,

"I don't know."

"You're ribs are carved up, this-this looks like writing, how the heck did you do that?" June shook her head again and placed her head in her hands, continuing to shake it. The men began talking over each other, though their words jumped around and jumbled together in June's ears, so she covered them.

"Ma'am, do you have any idea how the fire-" The officer started, only to have the reported overpower him and wave the x-rays.

"Did you get surgery for this or some-?"

"Miss Howe, I'm going to need you to pay attention to me, now-" A badge was flashed a little too close to June's pained face.

"How can you not know about your ribs being carved? This is crazy-" The camera swung to face June.

"Mr. Starn, please refrain-" The officer seemed to have now turned on the reporter's meaningless banter.

"I mean, look at these!" He moved the pictures to show the officer.

"Please, I just want to see Ruth-" June mumbled and lifted her head to face the ceiling as her adrenaline pumped into her veins thick as butter.

" _Is_ Ruth going to wake up?" The reporter chirped with a little too much uncertainty for her comfort.

"Do you know how the fire started?" The officer was now speaking singly.

"I don't know, I don't know, just, leave me alone, please." June stammered, jerking the IV from her elbow with a cry. She slipped off the bed and slammed her hands into the wall as she caught herself from falling and shoved between the men.

"Ma'am-" June spun to face the officer.

"You can ask Ruth _when_ she wakes up." With that she stumbled through the door, nearly knocking into a nurse, who disregarded the small woman after giving her a slight once-over glance.

Of course her mind was still jammed with complete concern for Ruth, but the sight of the new place brought an air of adventure to June; she'd always liked new places, getting to explore and find where each door goes. For now she refrained from poking her head into every door, rather, she headed to the intersection where a small office was cut into the wall, the desk creating the front barrier. After a few seconds of confused questions, she was finally led to Ruth's room, where her memories of the next few hours blurred into one picture- sitting and watching Ruth's frail chest rise and fall slowly, covered in all types of wires and tubes. Her arms and half her face were burned, and she was told her whole front was burned as well.

Not even noticing she fell asleep, June was startled to find herself being woke up, especially by a crew of three more news reporters following a rather chipper Mr. Starn. The only woman in the bunch had a microphone and turned to face the camera. Her words didn't quite reach June's sleep ears, and she quickly stood on rather wobbly legs in front of Ruth's bed to block her from view.

Days went by of spending all her time at the hospital, as well as frequent visits from the reporters to hungrily twist and pull at June to get information on her mysterious rib carvings. June had no idea why her ribs, of all people's, would have been carved with symbols from an apparently unknown language, and felt it was time to find out while Ruth was still in a coma.

\-----------------

"So get this. A girl was found with her ribs carved without signs of any previous surgeries." Sam turned his laptop around to face his older brother Dean, who took one last swig of his beer before squinting his eyes and peering at the image.

"That's Enochian."

"Yeah, just like ours." Sam turned it back around and clicked a few links. "She's only three hours away, and we already finished here." Dean contemplated the idea for a few moments then stretched and stood from his chair,

"Alright. We'll leave in the morning, I'm not leaving without clocking a few hours. We drove seventeen hours to get here, and the freaking spirits cancelled each other out as we walked in the door." He chuckled and shuffled to his bed, kicking his pack and coat out of the way. "I'm perfectly fine dealing with someone alive. Had enough dead things for now." Sam scoffed and closed his laptop, standing as well. "Think we should tell Cass, or just tell him after we check it out?"

"Eh, we'll tell him when we get a room there. He'll wanna see." With that Dean kicked off all but his boxers and crawled into bed with a grunt as Sam slipped into the bathroom.


	4. Starting Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June makes a hard decision and dives into the real world, which is deeper than she could have imagined.

"I'm so sorry Ruth." June murmured, tightening her fingers around Ruth's hand, which was somehow still getting frailer over the past two years. "But I have to go. I can't stay here, I'm getting really close, like I told you I would. But I can't put you in danger, with how I am now, this kind of life." Her voice cracked and softened to a barely audible whisper. Of course she knew Ruth couldn't hear her, being in a coma and all, but optimism was all she really had to go on at the moment. She rubbed the elderly woman's wrinkled hand then stood up from her chair, brushing a strand of the woman's silver hair behind her ear. A nurse poked her head in the door and glanced over June.

"June, I don't know how you got in here _again,_ but visiting hours ended two hours ago; you're going to have to leave." The nurse, Cayla, had by now gotten used to seeing June randomly show up at all hours of the night sporadically. June scoffed lightly,

"You know I have my ways," she retorted quietly to the first part of the nurse's statement then nodded her head, "I know. I'm leaving now." She placed a daffodil from Ruth's garden on the bedside table and patted her own sides to check for all her belongings.

 _All my clothes are in the duffle in the car. Got the lighters from the gas station._ She patted her coat pockets, then jean pockets, the kicked her right foot lightly, _got all my knives. I guess it's time to go, then._

June had spent the last two years living in the furthest shadows from the public eye as she could. It was hard to figure anything out when people are constantly chasing down the "carved rib girl" with cameras or relentless questions. Instead, she stayed alone in Ruth's house, dropped all plans she had gathered- including the multiple acceptance letters from the nearby Ivy League schools, and picked up anything related to her past. The main influence was her feather. It had been there since she could remember- two days before she joined the foster program when she was ten. It was about six inches long, soft as newly spun silk, and its golden color practically mimicked the rays of the sun itself. Trying to cut it out was not possible, for every time she tried, she either started getting really nauseous, or couldn't find it in her to rid the only hint to her past she had. How many other girls had feathers growing in their hair; it _had_ to be something. Another hint was her scars. They ran in horizontal lines, four of them, on the middle of her back. They were pretty good sizes, around four inches long, and had to have needed stitches. So it was a slim chance, but there was a possibility of tracking down the hospital she had been admitted to for the stitches. Finger prints were a no-go. She's already checked that, and she's simply not in the database _at all._ She didn't know what town she was born or grew up in. But she did have her last name- Howe. Though once again, she'd already tried that. All the Howes she could get a hold of did not have anyone related to them that could have been her. She really was alone, now that Ruth was comatose for over two years. And boy, had those two years been interesting.

It started off with getting another set of detailed x-rays of her ribs, and taking them as her own, making sure to make it clear that the hospital wasn't allowed any access to them besides through her. Now, it's expected that tracking down a language using a rough picture of some scratched symbols on somebody's ribs would be difficult, but she'd hoped to possibly find at least _something_ similar. Nothing. Nada, zip, zero, absolutely nothing came even close. The seeming chicken-scratch didn't seem to be any current or dead languages, and even ancient language specialists couldn't help her. Therefore, she went a different way. Tracking down the number that was used to call her the night of the fire, June managed to find an address linked to the number- it seemed luck was on her side, because he had called from a home number. Upon taking Ruth's little PT Cruiser, equipped with the decorative wood siding that Ruth had loved so much, June took the long commute of five hours to get over there to Bear Lake, Idaho. Her success was short lived. Upon getting the house in her view, she rolled in to the sight of police officers crossing off the door with crime-scene tape. Apparently a man had been killed there that night. Taking her first step in getting information through false identification, she puffed herself up and announced she was from a local news company and had been given the assignment by order of the head of office. Though she was pretty sure she made it through the police lines with her smile and barrage of relentless and annoying questions. The crime scene was more than a little weird.

The house was pretty beat up. Tables flipped, lamps broken, lights burnt out, impact holes in the wall- but the most startling thing was the body, tied to a chair in the middle of a spray-painted symbol on the floor; a star within a circle. She only had a short time span before she was ratted out for her lies, so she snapped a bunch of pictures and skipped out of view. Upon leaving through the back door, she noticed remnants of salt or flour on the floor, and added that to her rigorous notes. Long nights, a heck of a lot of coffee, and a very, very patient librarian brought her to the knowledge of a new world- the real world, full of dark things pretty much out to kill you for the fun of it. The first thing she came across was demons, because of the strange symbol. It was a devil's trap- something she now practically saw every time she closed her eyes. After probably too much research to be healthy, she took the information and put it to good use. It took a while, but she managed to get into contact with a rather odd but kind-to-the-heart-man: Garth Fitzgerald. The lanky man was good for hugs, serious when needed, and couldn't take a sip of beer without getting drunk- but that was alright with June, since she planned on never letting the foul liquid past her lips. Why kill her mind when she needed it fast to stay alive? Garth did things a little different than her. He classified himself, and her occasionally, as a hunter. Someone who finds a job involving something of the supernatural world, tracks it down, and kills- or, 'Garths it', as he called it. She wasn't in it for killing anything taking lives- she wasn't against the traditional hunting methods, but she was more interested in researching than hacking a blade for now. Taken under his wing, she became a pretty good apprentice of his, right up until the day he discovered the language carved into her bones- Enochian. A very, very dead language, used by extremely old creatures, though primarily seen connected to angels. That tip was all she needed to pack her bags and scuttle down a few towns to set up base camp for the big day.

"Hey, I need a small room, just one bed." June chirped as she walked up to the counter of the obnoxiously yellow lobby of a rather run-down motel. She didn't care, a few leaks won't hurt anything, and the stains _probably_ wouldn't give her any weird rashes. The woman looked up through her thick glasses and silently stabbed some buttons on the computer in front of her. June dug into her wallet and pulled out an ID and credit card, but it wasn't the one she had expected. She's managed to leave her fake ID in the car, and instead in her hand was the one proudly displaying her real name and information. She knew it was a risk, but handed it over with the connected credit card with a reluctant smile. With hunters, they tended to have to do things that were illegal in order to get to the creature killing people- like breaking into buildings. Therefore fake IDs were commonly used to protect hunters from getting tracked down. You can’t exactly tell the police you broke into a building because the man you killed was actually a vampire; they’d send you to the looney bin. The woman glanced over it before handing it back with the paid-for key. June grinned and waved at her in thanks, managing to actually influence a genuine-looking smile from the older lady before she slipped back into her natural scowl.

Unlocking and shoving her door open, she dropped her duffle-bag of clothes onto the bed and glanced around. It was actually pretty nice. Instead of the odd yellow, it was a pale blue and green themed room with one bed, a small kitchen area, and a door to the bathroom. There was a small round table stuck awkwardly in the middle of the room, so June strode to it and dropped her backpack of primarily weapons onto it with a metallic 'clunk'. You can’t kill most supernatural creatures with things like guns, therefore hunters normally have a plethora of weapons, like steaks, silver knives, salt, and lots of iron. Upon opening her bag smoothly and removing her laptop, she regretted dropping the bag so hard, and opened the slim black device. Her random papers stuffed inside blew out and spilled across the table and a few at her feet. With a grumble she scooped them up, pulling the desired one into the front- the words for the summoning ritual. She already had the picture for the symbols she needed to paint onto the walls, and had previously located a nice old barn practically in the middle of nowhere with no current owners. After a few minutes of shuffling around and making sure she had everything she needed, but not too much either, June turned and glanced over the room once more before slipping out into the afternoon sun.

\-----------------

"Dean, Yahtzee." Sam said with an astounded voice, opening his mouth in a wide smile. "First hit in seven months. We’re close, too." Dean raised his eyebrow and looked at Sam curiously,

"What are we talking about again?" Sam sighed and tapped his keyboard,

"June Howe."

"The kid with the warding on her ribs?" His eyebrows raised, "You found her?"

"Finally." Sam replied with an exasperated tone as he snatched the notebook from the far end of the table and a pencil, jotting down the address of the motel her name had popped up in.

"Wow. That kid was slippery." Dean stated as he sat up from the bed across from Sam, who was still hunched over his laptop at the table. "We're what," He glanced up in thought then back at Sam, "Two hours? Alright. Well, we'll head out in ten, I gotta hit the head and you gotta pack up," he motioned toward the cluttered table, "That." He made a mock-disgusted expression and snickered before slipping into the bathroom. Sam made an annoyed face before his older brother left his sight then stood up and gathered his belongings back into relatively neat piles and stowed them into their respective bags. Once everything seemed to be in order the two slipped out, returned the key, and stuffed themselves and their gear into the black 1967 Chevy Impala, pulling out at around 12:50.

\-----------------

Dropping the match into the bowl, June glanced at her watch and noted the time- 3:12. She shoved the sleeve of her red flannel coat down and crossed her arms nervously. This was it- she’d just completed the summoning spell for an angel- a real _angel._ Today she was finally going to get some answers about why her ribs were carved, or possibly even her past. Where her scars were from, her family, who she was for ten years. Finally more than a name. After a few seconds of nothing happening, she trotted back to her incantation notes, frowning over them. The ritual was supposed to summon an angel to her, but the barn was eerily empty.

"I must have said something wrong, pronounced something incorrectly." She tucked her hair behind her ear.

"No, you said it right." The startle of the new voice kicked June into a defensive pose with her knife slipped from her pocket and held in front of her. A man with short cropped dark hair and a straight face stood about a car's length from her. She shifted her footing to stand up a little more straight, looking him over.

"You're an angel, right? Or did I just screw something up really bad?"

"Yes, I am an angel, created by the Lord to carry his bidding when you humans aren't crawling on your stomachs and dragging me from my duties." June hadn't expected the attitude from the man and laughed nervously- weren’t angels supposed to be, well, angels? “Apachana,” He mumbled quietly to himself.

"I-I apologize, really."

"Then why don't you tell me why you," he seemed to have just looked over her closely, his squinted eyes filling with recognition as his head tilted curiously, "why you need me." As he finished his words slowed, and a twitch of a smile flashed in the corner of his eye.

"My name is June Howe. I have Enochian on my ribs, and I'd like to know how and why." She shifted the knife in her grip, watching the man cautiously. She made sure to read up on everything she could find about angels, but it wasn't a lot. Enough to know nothing she had could kill him, but injuring him was doable. If she could catch them- she knew they could teleport, freeze time- they practically had every advantage possible against her.

The man's eyes narrowed again, and he continued to stare at her for a few agonizingly silent seconds before deciding to honor her with a response.

"Explains why not a being could find you. You have been warded against demons and angels, as well as a few other things." June realized he had been staring at her chest where her ribs would be. Surprised he could see the marks with his naked eyes, she paused before replying.

"Why was I warded?"

"For good reasons, child." As the angel stepped forward the tension in June's body doubled and she fought against stepping back herself. He continued moving toward her and then her nerves and reflexes got the best of her, causing her to skirt in a semicircle around him to avoid the man getting any closer. "Don't be afraid."

" _Yeah_ , I'll just do that." June replied with nervous sarcasm, "Just tell me why." He simply kept quiet and in a flash and a ruffle of clothes he was suddenly two feet from June. She squeaked in surprised and instantly sunk her knife into the middle of the man's chest. He simply looked down, slowly pulled it out, and inspected it calmly in his hand. Beginning to feel things were starting to go downhill, June backed up a few more steps, glancing around for one of her planned escape routes.

"Your memory must have been blocked very well for you to not remember. You had quite a few experiences in your past."

"Then remind me."

"I shouldn't." His shoulder twitched, sending a shiver of anticipation into June at the same time as he thrust his hand forward at her. A flash of silver in his hand caught in June's vision as she ducked, the blade missing its aimed spot of her chest and digging deeply into her shoulder. She cried out and kicked him back, the knife staying in his hand. She pulled her only spare knife from her pocket shakily and glared at him, trembling as she attempted to keep her shoulder from moving too much. It was already screaming with pain and beginning to feel warm with blood. She blinked and ground her teeth.

 _"What the heck?_ " She shouted loudly, flinching as he turned to face her. He crossed the distance between them and lunged again. This time June was a bit more ready, and dropped flat to the ground as he swung past her. Standing back up she spun and kicked at his back, but he had already turned around inhumanly fast and grabbed her foot, twisting it and tossing her to the ground. He knelt and held the smooth blade at her throat, successfully coaxing her into staying _mostly_ still.

"You've made quite an uproar in heaven _and_ hell. How did you do that to your soul?" He snarled, his voice going an octave lower and amazingly managing to sound ever more threatening than before.

"My _soul_?" June breathed out. The angel grabbed her injured shoulder and squeezed, causing her to scream and grip at his impossibly stiff arm- it wasn't going to budge any time soon. But she wriggled anyway against the burning pain.

"What. Did you do. To your soul?" He repeated slowly and locked eyes with her, his tone as if he was speaking to a child. All June could muster was a shake of her head, snapping her wide eyes shut as his weight shifted off her. Opening her grey eyes to the world once again she grunted and rolled, attempting to avoid the strike from the blade that was already heading for her.

Suddenly the man was knocked to the side, hard, his palms slapping the ground at the same time as his blade dropped and clattered across the ground, creating a symphony of noises against the dusty cement. A new man with a serious death glare, short-cropped dark blonde hair, and an old leather jacket followed the angel and connected his foot into the downed man's side. A second man practically appeared in front of June, sporting longer brown hair and wide eyes. He reached down and grabbed her arm, and June instantly reacted on instinct- she curled her ankle around his and kicked, knocking her elbow against his head as he dropped to his knees. She moved to scoot away from him but her shoulder could not support her weight, therefore she planted her foot in his shoulder and kicked him back. Realizing what was going on, the man caught himself from being flipped to his back and rolled forward pressing her hand to the ground with one knee, leaning over her in a kneel to grab her other.

"We're here to help you, calm down!" He shouted locking eyes with her for a second before there was a crash and the shorter man flung into her table with her weapons and objects on it, and the taller was collided-into by the angel. The angelic fighter stopped himself from sliding past her crumpled form and spun toward June with concentrated eyes. She rolled her feet under herself and stood up, but was surprised by the cold wood of the barn smacking into her back. Her shoulder throbbing she raised her hand defensively to try and block his strike with the blade, but was easily deflected as the knife sunk into her stomach before being slipped back out. Another scream was pulled from her mouth and she dropped to the ground, kicking out his legs in the process. By now the taller man was standing behind the enemy and held him down while the other stabbed the prostate angel in the chest. His eyes and mouth began to glow like flashlights in the dark as he seemingly self-destructed on the inside, before he went limp.

Everyone's chests heaved from the fight, though the attention was turned to June as she whimpered and removed her hand from her stomach to stare with the whites of her eyes showing at the amount of blood already pouring out.

"Crap." The taller man said, ripping off his jacket and pressing it to June's throbbing side.

"Who are you?" June asked weakly, pressing the jacket against her side as his hands pulled away.

"I'm Sam, this is my brother Dean," Sam breathed, stuffing his hand under June's arm and helping the swaying girl to her feet. She complied gratefully and leaned against the wall for support, looking down at the angel. "You're June, right?" June's head snapped up at him with her eyebrows furrowing curiously- she never told people her real name anymore, only aliases to be safe.

"Yes." She said with suspicion coating her voice. She's been so careful, how could they know her? When Dean began tossing her weapons that had been scattered on the ground back into her bag, June pushed off the wall to help. Not the best choice. Her stomach burned as blood continued to seep out mercilessly and her vision faded like someone had dimmed the lights. Her legs caved; luckily Sam had turned from cleaning up in time to hook her elbow, though it only flashed red across her vision and she yelped- it had been the injured arm.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry," He gasped, switching to slip his arm under her good shoulder. Her head lulled sleepily forward and she tried to thank him, but it only came out in incoherent mumbles;

"Mmn, ‘Anks San."

"Dean, we gotta go. Now." Without even waiting for a reply, Sam began tugging June to the back door of the barn, which they had busted open in a rather heroic scene upon first entering. Dean was close behind and trotted ahead of them, tossing his bag into the trunk then swinging open the door to the backseat and stuffing her bag under the seat. Sam, who was crouching quite a bit to handle her much shorter stature, helped her into the back seat where she propped herself drowsily against the door.

"You g-guys 'ave got this, 'm gonna take a, a nap." She mumbled, hugging her arms around herself. Sam grunted and leaned in, pressing the coat against her side again since her hands had dropped it.

"You have to stay awake. Keep your eyes open."

She whined, much like a puppy, and thumped her hand against his. "Hurts." He moved the coat to get a look, and ground his teeth at the grisly sight. It was deep, and had been torn when she dropped- his entire coat and that side of her body was drenched in the sticky red life force that was still steadily draining from her body.

"She gonna make it?" Dean snapped loudly with a hint of anger as he got into the driver's seat and slammed his door shut. Sam gently pushed June's stiff legs out of the way enough to cram himself into the back with her in order to keep pressure on her puncture, closing the door behind him at the same time as Dean started pulling out.

"Just drive. And call Cas."


	5. Mending Minds and Bodies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As June recovers from the unexpected attack, she bunks up with the Winchester brothers who have nearly as many questions as herself.

Feeling her body shift underneath her, June managed to pull herself back from the numbness of being unconscious to the world of very real pain. The first thing she noticed was the searing on her stomach like someone had stabbed a fork into her side and was spinning it. Her body's natural reaction was to sit up, which brought on the pain in her shoulder as well. She groaned and let her head fall back, barely registering the crack of her head against the frame of the door.

"Hey, easy now." The voice was hushed, calming, and familiar. Opening her heavy eyes she smiled faintly up at Sam as he continued attempting to ease her out of the car. Her eyes slipped down to inspect her body, causing her stomach to churn at the sight of her entire side blackened with dried blood. It only worsened her pain and she made a quiet whining noise as she weakly helped to get out of the car, making the process much faster and smoother. Once standing, Sam proceeded to wrap his arm under her mostly-unharmed shoulder to help her walk.

Looking up to inspect the new lay of the land around her, June noted their secluded location on a back barely-maintained gravel road. They were heading to a set of concrete steps that lead down a few hops to a thick, metal door.

"What is t-this, a zombie a-apocalypse shelter?" She murmured with a tired laugh. Dean came around them and entered first to open the door as Sam helped June down the steps. She found herself on a tall balcony, overlooking a sort of command-center. Everything was built with heavy wood and thick metal as if the place was built for surviving bombings. Sam tugged at her, apologizing as it caused her to sway on her feet,

"Come on, you should lay down." Glancing down at her stomach as something tickled her, she nodded in agreement to Sam as her wound began to bleed a bit again. Her legs were sore and one foot was asleep.

"How long was I out?"

"It was a seven hour drive. Dean made it in six." Sam answered shortly, watching her and nodding in approval as she leaned heavily on the railing to get down the stairs. Once at the bottom she didn't see the last step and slipped, Sam attempted to catch her by her arm, though she still crumpled onto her rear. Dean snapped his head around in time to see her slip-up and made a knowing face at Sam before walking over to her and crouching down. They seemed to almost be able to communicate through a series of silent faces at each other.

"Dean, where's Cas?"

"I don't know, Sam, I've called twice now." Dean snapped back at the younger brother then grunted as he picked June up bridal-style. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying out as it pinched the gash on her stomach and her breathing quickly became labored. Slowly she could feel her body trying to sleep again as her head lolled forward weakly. When she next looked up she must have missed a few moments, because he was already setting her on a bed. The room was small and built just as sturdy as everywhere else, but it still had a feeling of home. The bed had been nicely made, and she mumbled an apology for bleeding on it.

"It's okay, really." Sam said walking into the room with a first aid kit in his hand and a glass of water in the other. "Dean, seriously, where is Cas-"

"I told you, I don't know. I'll call him again." Dean spat angrily, causing June to jump, and tossed his hands up defensively before slipping surprisingly quietly out of the room. The guys were both like that- stealthy, cautious. They seemed to have a very good idea of their surroundings, like a, pun not intended, hunter stalking through the forest after a four-point elk.

Sam smiled weakly and June attempted to return the gesture but managed only to grimace as she tried to sit up. He'd obviously noticed her reaction to Dean's outburst, though it was so normal to Sam it hadn't affected him. He had a slight air of caution now, but moved quicker as June's head bobbed sleepily.

"You have to stay awake, at least until Cas gets here." He shoved her legs over and sat in their place and glanced at June before moving again. "Can I?" He asked, motioning toward her gash. June nodded and gave him a giddy-from-loss-of-blood smile which only caused him to fret more. Shifting in her spot, June watched curiously as he rolled the bottom of her shirt up, flinching as it was removed from the wound and fresh air stabbed its way into her flesh.

"Sorry."

"S'okay." Sam froze and got back up, striding quickly to the door across from him and walked into what looked like a bathroom to June, but she quickly brought her eyes back toward her stomach. Her injured shoulder was still burning, so she used the opposite hand to try and wipe away some of the blood to actually get a good look. Though the mere touch of her hand on the gouge sent pain that flashed all the way to the back of her eyes.

"That's deep." She mumbled wearily. The blood loss felt as if it was starting to get to her again and she closed her eyes, content with the blackness that tempted to overtake her. Though Sam was back with a wet washcloth and squeezed her knee gently,

"Stay awake." He reminded her, and she rubbed her eyes then whined as she felt blood from on her hand smear on her eyelid.

"Nasty." She said with a weakly disgusted face and she wiped her face on her upper arm. Sam froze again, and didn't move until June locked her tired grey eyes with his concerned hazel ones.

"I'm gonna try and clean it, make do with what we," June closed her eyes again and he nudged her knee until she pried them back open, "Make do with what we have until Cas gets off his high horse and comes down here."

"Who's Cas?" She asked with a scratchy voice, then nodded for Sam to continue. He seemed to hesitate, not wanting to hurt her, but shoved that aside and began wiping at the blood with surprisingly gentle movements, considering his rather large hands. June whimpered anyways and pressed her head back into the pillow.

"Sorry."

"S'okay. I'm fine." Sam scoffed at that and continued cleaning with a shake of his head. An annoyed sigh slipped through his lips as he folded and refolded the washcloth as each clean side was quickly dirtied with growing patches of crimson red. Previously it had stopped bleeding again and had attempted to clot, but that was quickly changed as Sam had to wipe off the grime that had accumulated from her fall to the ground. For some reason June felt it would make her feel better to watch and pushed herself up, her injured shoulder complaining and causing her to twist and support all her weight on the good shoulder- which was starting to become rather tired of being depended upon.

There was a muffled shouting from Dean, sounding as if he was cursing at someone, then it stopped and two pairs of footsteps were heard approaching the half-closed door. Sam quickly stood up and opened it at the same time as a new man walked in, adorn with a trench coat hanging slightly disheveled. He stopped in the doorway with his eyes growing wide as his head tilted to the side, blatantly ignoring Sam shouting at him quietly.

"Cas, what the heck? She could have died!" Sam motioned toward June and raised his hands in a questioning motion toward him.

"Who is this?" The new, dark hair man said gruffly, looking over June with almost nervous eyes. Sam seemed taken aback for a second with his question and visage then shook his head,

"June. Just, fix her, Cas."

"This is Cas?" June asked quietly, her nerves flaring with the rising emotions that were trying to fill the room. Anger was something that frightened her a bit, it always made her feel a bit suffocated, so she tended to avoid conflicts. Sam just looked at her, then Cas, then swept his eyes back to look at June.

"Earth to Castiel, girl dying." Dean's bark echoed as he entered the room behind Castiel with an opened beer can in his hand, obviously still flaring with agitation. Castiel seemed to go into his own mind for a few seconds then walked toward June and raised his hand when he was only a foot away.

Frightened for obvious reasons, June dug her ankles into the blankets and shoved herself away from his outstretched fingers, though she only succeeded in knocking herself back down onto her back from her elbows.

"W-what are you doing?" She asked with wide eyes. Looking over him she calmed down, letting herself trust the man quickly; he seemed to know what he was doing. Ruth had always told her she trusts too easily and should guard herself and her heart more, but to her, it was natural to trust people. It was normally seen where a person has to have someone gain their trust, but June handed hers out freely with a warm smile. With a new-found curiosity she simply watched as Castiel leaned and pressed two fingers on her forehead. Instantly a lukewarm feeling spreading into her body, pooling into her shoulder and stomach. It was like getting into a warm bathtub after a very long and strenuous hike, only better. The speed that her body's state improved was so fast that June's mind didn't even have the time to recognize the change as it happened- it was just pain, a glimmer of being completely healed, then she passed out. Castiel jerked his hand off of her forehead to hold it against his chest and stumbled back a step, staring at her with wide and incredibly confused blue eyes. There was a silence in the room before Sam cleared his throat and broke it.

"Is she okay?" He asked slowly with doubt tainting his voice as he witnessed Castiel's recoil. The angel looked down at his hand in awe, opening and closing it.

"Yes. She will wake soon." He frowned at his hand then her sleeping form.

"What the heck was that, Cas? You looked like she was hot lava." Dean said and stared at him with a stern glance.

"I have to go." Suddenly Castiel was gone, only the soft ruffle of his coat left in his place, then silence took over once more. After a few seconds of the boys staring at the sleeping woman, Sam shifted his footing and sighed out a breath of relief. Dean glanced at him then down at the drink in his hand before looking once more at June.

"Okay. I'm going to go unload the car." He said in a gravelly tone and left the room with Sam on his heels.

"Why would Cas do that?"

"I dunno, he's weak or something?" Dean tossed back at his brother sharply, "Ask him yourself." Sam let Dean leave and stood in thought for a few seconds before moving to the large wood table and moving some books aside to slump down in exhaustion from the emotionally and physically strenuous day.

\-------------------------------------------

After quite a few hours of blank, deep, restful sleep, a dream started in June's subconscious eye. A single flash of bright colors, a blurry flicker of a license plate, and she was awake. Suddenly jolting forward on the bed, June planted her hands on either side of her and curled her knees to her chest. Apparently the seemingly placid images brought forth an incredible wave of fresh panic into her system. She ran her hands through her hair with labored breathing, twisting her right hand into the lower layers of her hair near her neck, wrapping around the silky feather and closing her eyes. Her breathing slowly returned to normal, her heart following and she rested her head against the headboard of the bed for a few seconds.

Opening her eyes again she immediately swung her lungs over the side of the bed and stood up, completely awake. She felt better- fantastic really, from Castiel's gracious yet surprisingly wary actions. Her mind swirled with questions as she rolled up her shirt to gaze at her unblemished skin, as if it'd never been pierced. She realized her shoulder was healed as well, because she had completely forgot and had been using it like it never happened. How did he do that? What did he do; what _was_ he? A whisper of a thought slipped into the back of her mind and she padded quietly to the bathroom and turned her back to the mirror. Hitching up her shirt, she craned her neck over her shoulder and gave out a sigh of relief- the scars were still there. They were one of the very few things connecting June to her past, and she'd be devastated to have it gone. She didn't care that she didn't have a perfect back, that the four thin horizontal lines were etched smoothly across it. They were hers. She peeked once more at her stomach to confirm that the small nick under her rib was still there, and it thankfully was as well.

Departing the bathroom, she crept to the door leading out of her room and poked her head through the doorway, peering both directions. One end dimmed and had more doors then turned a corner, and the other lead to a light around a different corner.

"Don't go toward the light." She whispered in a mock-fear tone, citing the quote she'd heard a few times in her life before tiptoeing to the corner that shone the yellow of a florescent light bulb. In her sights was Sam, his head resting on his arms, which were crossed on a thick wooden table with a laptop and a few books around him, asleep. She juggled the ideas of either waking him or letting him sleep. She barely knew him- heck, she didn't know him. Just their names- Castiel, Dean, Sam. She didn't know where she was, why an angel of all creatures decided she needed to die, she didn't even know the first ten years of her life. But she felt safe. Maybe it was the thick walls and multiple devil's traps she'd eyed on her pained stumble down the stairs. Maybe it was these people who risked their lives to save her, a stranger, or the way they took her in. Maybe she was just nuts, finally cracked. She didn't care to delve much more into her mind, though.

Padding quietly in her socks to the table, June closed Sam's laptop and slid it away from him, pulled the book from under his hand and put it on the laptop so his spot was saved and smiled at him. The big man didn't look so big and tough passed out and practically drooling. She turned in a circle to observe the room when a light flicked on in the hallway she had come from. Her nerves flared up and she danced in spot, fighting over whether she should stay there, or flee back to her room and hope not to be caught. The latter seemed silly and she calmed down. Wandering to the table she quietly hopped up to sit on it, glanced at Sam to make sure she hadn't woke him, and crossed her ankles as she stared at the hallway curiously. Would it be Dean? Or Castiel- whom now that she thought about it, she didn't even know where he went. He was probably around there somewhere, hopefully getting some rest as well.

Dean rounded the corner and jumped at the sight of June, then seemed to connect in his sleepy head who she was, remembering the events of earlier that day. He glanced from her to the wall behind her and she followed his gaze to a clock, stating it was a little after four in the morning. Dean's eyebrow raised curiously and his eyes slipped over to Sam. He scoffed at his brother and shook his head with a soft grin before locking eyes with June and motioning her to follow him with a jerk of messy-haired head. Quietly dropping the few inches back to the ground from the table, June glanced over at Sam once more before silently following Dean toward the other room he had continued his previous path toward. Now that she was paying attention, she could make out the soft thumps of his footfalls and smiled to herself, the sounds of her feet not even reaching her own ears. She liked being quiet, and excelled it. It was easier considering she was short in nature, about five feet, five inches tall, and only weighed around one hundred and twenty pounds. Though it did mean in the few fights she had been in since joining this life, she seemed to be tossed around fairly easily, if not just for the fun of it. Even Garth, with his form much frailer than Dean or Sam's, could have easily tossed June across the room- nearly did, shoving her out of harm's way on one of the few hunts he took her on, a werewolf. Their last hunt together, actually.

June entered the kitchen with a smile, watching as Dean poured a glass of water for her and turned, smiling as he noticed her in the door way.

"How are you feeling?" He asked quietly, setting his glass on the table and sitting down calmly. She complied and sat down as well, turning the chair around to rest her arms on the back to watch him.

"Miraculously fantastic." She said with a grin then laughed softly and ran her hand through her hair. The loose curls were rather tangled and she caught a snare, so she took to working it out with her fingers while Dean watched, amused.

"Yeah, that's angels for you." He said nonchalantly, though June froze in her movements.

"Castiel is an angel?" She inquired and dropped the knotted clump of hair. "I guess it's comforting to know not _all_ angels want me dead." She sighed and picked the tangle back up.

"Yeah, what was that about, anyways?"

"You tell me." She replied quietly and let her eyes fall to her drink. Giving up on her hair, she picked up the cool glass and drank some, not realizing how thirsty she had been until it reached her lips. The cold liquid was like the healing Castiel gave her earlier- wonderfully smooth and positive in all natures. She smiled and set it back down, idly tracing shapes in the condensation on the outside until it dripped into a puddle onto the table. She grimaced then laughed nervously, picking it up and wiping it away with her sleeve. "Sorry."

"You apologize too much." Dean jested and drank some of his own drink. June simply laughed and nodded her head, then let the conversation fizzle out into an actually quite content silence. It seemed right so early in the morning- almost respectful to have such lull silence. But after a few minutes and she had finished her water and Dean his own drink, she tipped her head up and glanced at him.

"How much do you know about me?" She asked curiously. There was not an ounce of distrust or wariness in her voice, but instead an air of prominent inquisitiveness. Dean pursed his lips as he seemingly went over some things in his head. He sighed and linked his fingers, resting his arms on the table and looking up at her with tired eyes.

"Not enough, apparently. Mostly things the press let out. We do know about your ribs though, the Enochian warding." June's head perked up and she stared at him and cocked her head to the side in slight wonder. "We have it too." With that her eyes lit up noticeably.

"How did you get it?" She blurted out quickly. She'd never really considered anyone else having it, much less running into them. Dean blinked in surprise by June's question, and his eyebrows twitched in thought.

"Same way you got it, angel carved it in. Cas did ours," Dean said rather nonchalantly. June brought her hand up and rubbed it against her collarbones. The image of an angel literally carving her ribs popped into her head, and Dean noticed her wariness. "Not, literally- you should know..?" His words fizzled out and he held his hand up, but June spoke first.

"I don't know anything. I don't remember the first ten years of my life. I think I would remember an angel carving my ribs, so it must have been before I was ten." This was one of the times June felt as if Ruth were about to butt in and remind her to be careful what she says to people. But Ruth wasn't there, and it was due time June actually got some of it off her shoulders. "The earliest I and anyone else can remember about me is two days before I was put into a foster home. There is absolutely nothing about my past right up until I woke up in a place I didn't recognize, with a woman I didn't know. She said her name was Olivia, and she was going to bring me somewhere I could start over. And I did, I guess. When I turned eleven I was adopted by a woman named Ruth. Everything was normal until I was eighteen. No monsters, no supernatural- I'd only even saw one horror movie. I lived a totally normal life." She shook her head and rubbed her eyes as she continued, "Then a man called, and then my- there was a fire in my house." Her voice cracked, "I-I got stuck upstairs, and Ruth, she was downstairs in the fire. She.. She's in a coma. I was hurt, and they gave me x-rays, and that was the first time I saw that my freaking ribs were carved all up." She removed her hands from her face and stared down at her empty glass. Dean didn't seem to quite know what to say, so when he looked up and a light hint of relief flashed on his face, June turned around to see a drowsy but listening Sam leaning in the doorway. He gave her a quick smile that looked apologetic and sat down at the table himself.

"I'm sorry." Dean managed to say and spun his empty glass in his hand idly.

"So, no one knows what happened in your first ten years?" Sam asked, running his hand through his hair and watching her with a look of concern clouding his countenance. June shook her head before responding,

"No. Sometimes I get little memories, faces, and little things in dreams. I even have scars that no one can explain." She scoffed very lightly and ran her finger along the surface of the table. She had kept herself from speaking about the feather- Ruth would be proud, even though the woman didn't even know it existed. But it was something special to her, and even though she trusted these new men more than she probably should, she had never told anyone about the feather. It stays mostly hidden in her hair, and anyone who might have gotten a glance of it would simply think it was something clipped into her hair, not attached like hair itself. Now that she was thinking about the feather, of course, the urge to fiddle with it became almost unbearable. To the point that she was quite grateful for Sam's voice to draw her back to reality.

"I'm sorry, that must be awful." Sam's eyebrows furrowed into a rather puppy-like expression and June lightened up a bit,

"S'alright. I'm working on it." She placed both palms down on the table and smiled up at them with tired eyes. "I think sleep would do all of us good though. Sam, I'm pretty sure a bed would be better than the table." She smiled sheepishly as she stood up and pulled her messy curls over her shoulder, watching as Sam chuckled and nodded. Dean nodded and stood up at well,

"I can agree with that." He himself looked very tired, and June could see he'd been through a lot, had a look similar to a veteran. Which was probably true, considering the way they both fought like they were only a half a step behind the angel, despite the host of heaven having rather unfair advantages. Dean shuffled his way to the door and turned to nod at them before quickly adding, "Sam can get you a room of your own," before slipping around the corner and out of sight. June frowned, absorbing his words before turning to Sam as realization settled in.

"You guys put me in your room?"

"It was closest, I don't mind."

"I bled all over your bed, and you had to sleep on the table." She frowned and furrowed her eyebrows. Sam simply scoffed and raised his hands,

"Really, I couldn't care less, it's not like I haven't bled on it a few times before. Cleans up easy." June's eye widened and she blinked a few times. Sam laughed at her, motioning for her to follow him toward the hallway once again.


	6. Helpful Inquisitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a new addition to the bunker, June proves to do her part, and in return earns more than she could have asked for- partners to help in a search for her past.

With so little connections to her past, it was perfectly reasonable for June to tightly conform to anything that had lingered over from her unknown years- favorite flavors of ice cream, songs that pulled forth feelings both good and bad- and in this case, her body's habit of waking her at no later than half past six in the morning. June of course had no idea why she woke up at six thirty every morning, nor why the idea of sleeping any later made her stomach uneasy with anxious prickles. Of course there were times she'd forced herself to go back to sleep, such as in occasions where she was sick and actually needed the extra rest, but was always woken by her mind every twenty minutes. After a while she started giving in, getting up at nearly six thirty every morning.

This morning was no exception apparently, because when her eyes fluttered open and a yawn pulled her mouth open, she glanced over her shoulder to see the clock proudly displaying six twenty two. She smiled softly- the sleep had definitely done her well and she had been lucky enough to have simple, calm dreams throughout the night. Getting up early was easy for her because of her body's decision that six was time to wake up, so she was already mostly awake when she slipped her legs off the bed and padded barefoot to the bathroom.

The room Sam had set her up in was a few doors down from his and Dean's, probably placed specifically far from the door for her own safety, considering an angel tried to turn her into a shish kabob. It was a good sized room, with a large bed against the wall furthest from the door. There was a small and stout nightstand by the bed, a dresser to the right of it, and another dresser on the wall left of the door. Another door lead into a small bathroom of her own, equipped with an actually very nice shower. Considering she only had a few things of her own- a few sets of clothing, an old, red plaid coat from Mr. Barner, and quite a few weapons Garth had forced onto her- her room was rather bare. But it was nice for her to have a space of her own rather than the slightly unsanitary motel rooms she used to frequent. She'd taken much joy into putting all her clothes away and organizing her knives and other weapons around the room, making it her own. June pulled a brush through her loosely curled blonde hair as much as she could without pulling all her hair out along with the knots until it looked decent, then pulled it into a messy bun anyways.

She was clad in a plain white shirt and a pair of black plaid shorts- not too short though, nothing shorter than halfway up her thighs. It was just uncomfortable to her for clothing to be revealing in any way. She'd never really cared what she wore, as long as it was comfortable and modest. Her normal attire was old, worn jeans and plaid or plain colored shirts- nothing too fancy, and was almost always found with the coat from Mr. Barner. It was old and smelled like a wood shop even though she would have expected the smell to fade a long time ago. He'd given it to her one of the days she was out walking around the neighborhood because the couple across the street couldn't find their cat. It'd started raining, and the frisky feline had never been outdoors because of his strong allergies to fragrant flowers- which were seen at nearly every house, so it was easy to see the couples concern for their cat's wellbeing. Therefore, when June heard Felix had gotten out, she set out on her own to find him. June isn't one to get cold easily, so being out tromping around in the pouring rain in soaked clothes didn't bother her much. Apparently it worried Mr. Barner though, because he'd come out and insisted she wore and kept the coat. It was been his son's before he had left for the military, and because of how high of a rank he had achieved, the son wasn't likely to come home again. If the son, named Daniel Barner, were to be let out of active service, he would still be staying down in Florida where another military based program was eyeing him. Even though he didn't talk about it, Mr. Robert Barner himself had been in a few wars and skirmishes, and his aged features told all the tales June needed. She did end up finding the cat not long after that, wheezing under a car down the block, and returned him home where he was given his emergency allergy medications.

Padding out of her room with her bare feet silent on the carpet, June made her way casually into the main room where the broad wooden table stood. A smirk pulled up the corner of her mouth to see how many things were scattered on the glossy surface- there had to be ten books, Sam's laptop, and countless stray papers and newspaper clippings. Now, Ruth always told June that she was one of the luckiest grandmas in the world, because she had been blessed with a child who _loved_ to clean. Her house was always very clean and neat all the time, and Ruth hardly had to touch anything. The act of cleaning relaxed June, and organizing things had always been an interest of hers, ever since she started color-coding all of Ruth's cooking recipes as a kid. The joys of cleaning had continued to carry on with June through the years, all the way up to her currently stacking and straightening the books on the table. Half of them were in other languages- one Latin, two that looked like Greek, and a few others she didn't recognize. Some books on spirits, one that claimed to contain "all the things you need to know about Witchcraft and Wicca". She chuckled and stacked them all on the table's end, straightened the papers and separated them into stacks, and put Sam's dead laptop on the charger. Picking up a few of the books into her arms, she made her way toward the room Sam had stated as the library to put a few of them away in order to get some more room on the table for the boys. She was pleasantly surprised to see how full and large the library was; nearly bursting with books placed on every flat surface and filling each shelf of the bookshelves. Not quite knowing where anything went or how it was organized, she simply placed them gently on the table in the middle of the room.

The urge to explore fought with her now-hungry stomach over which instinct would win her over. In the end exploring won over- eating was boring, but exploring was like going on an adventure to discover new lands- in the end, it really wasn't a hard decision. She wandered back into the main room and through to the kitchen, continuing to the hall at the other end that she had yet to meander through. There was a long hallway with quite a few doors, and a smile plastered itself across her face at the sight of how many rooms she would be able to inspect and discover new wonders in. The first door opened lead to a small closet with not much in it besides a few brooms, some exposed pipes, and a large number of dust bunnies. She made a mental note to try and clean in there as she closed the door and moved to the next. A small thought wormed it's way into the back of her mind- what if they didn't want her poking around, snooping through all their rooms? Her hand lingered on the next door and she bit her lip. She really didn't want to offend them, considering that they took her in and nursed her back to health. She decided just the one more room, and then she would ask before doing any more investigating.

This room was a rather large store room, with barely any space left on the shelves. Boxes and files galore were stuffed shoulder to shoulder on the shelves, and a few places were laden with jars of many unusual objects and colored liquids. June ran her hand along the selves, checking the labels every so often, mostly wanting to just see the entirety of the room itself. She did notice some markings on the floor, as well as something coming from under the shelves in the middle of the wall directly opposite of the door. She got down on her knees and peered under it, but the shelves were flesh to the wall. What good was only a third of a devil's trap? The odd sight burned into her head, and she figured she could easily ask one of the boys and hopefully receive an answer for the strangeness. She sighed happily and walked back out the room, closed the door gently behind her, and made her way silently back to the kitchen. Dean strode in quickly through the other door to the kitchen, looking around with intent eyes, and nearly slumped over with relief as he caught sight of her. June blinked and gave him a curious smile.

"What?"           

"You weren't in your room, didn't know where you were," He waved his hand in dismissal, then paused at pointed at her legs, "And your tiny feet don't make noise like Giganto's." His thumb was jerked over his shoulder to connect the nickname to the direction of Sam's room, where he was apparently still sleeping. It was true- Sam was at least six-foot-five. "What're you even doing up so early? It's a weekend." He himself looked rather tired and scratched his chin stubble absently. It was already seven- she'd been wandering for longer than she thought. June shrugged and laughed quietly,

"I always get up early. I can stay in my room if you'd like." The words seemed to slip from her mouth without really thinking much about it, but she was mostly just looking to not upset her new friends- they were sort of all she had at the moment. Dean's eyebrow arched upward and he scoffed,

"I don't care if you're out here." He said bluntly, seemingly confused by her offer. "You're a weird kid." He added and padded past her in his black sweat pants and tee shirt to pull out yet another beer from the fridge. June eyed him with blatant disapproval; enough that when the gruff man turned around he raised his eyebrow again and lifted his hand defensively. "What?" June bit her lip and snorted, shaking her head.

"You just seem to really like beer." Dean mostly looked confused.

"Well, yeah. You want one?"

"Definitely not." June laughed and half-jokingly put her fingers up in a cross symbol as if she was warding the foul liquid away from her. She wasn't really sure where her strong feelings against the stuff had come from, and had even toyed with the idea of it possibly being something from her past. Dean just laughed and opened his can,

"Your loss." He turned back to the fridge and began poking around through it, before yawning and standing back up straight. "Alright. I'm making a food run. You want something?" He announced and looked at her with a bored expression lingering on his face. She concluded they must make food runs quite often, considering how large both men were and how much food they probably ate to be able to fight and be so active all the time.

"Fruit." Her answer had always been the same when Ruth asked what she desired from the grocery stores- apples, pears, bananas- she basically lived on fruit alone, and the most common food she'd seen in her short time in the bunker was a few cheeseburgers and some cereals. They were probably just running low on food at the moment, explaining his want to go on a food run, but she wanted to make sure that he would bring at least a few home for her.

"You and Sam with your rabbit food." He mumbled as he laughed under his breath and made his way back toward his room, most likely to get dressed. June considered the idea of getting dressed as well, but she was quite comfy in her pajamas, and figured if they asked her or bugged her about it that she would change. She stood for a few seconds and then got a glass of water, bringing it with her as she followed Dean back out of the kitchen. When they came out, Sam was awake and standing in front of the table, looking over it with curiosity dampening his features. It only took a few seconds for June to realize he seemed taken aback by the now mostly cleared table, and felt her cheeks warm up lightly with guilt. She should have asked, they might have all been out for a reason, set up in some pattern she saw only as messy.

"What?" Dean asked with a gravelly voice and a confused countenance.

"Did you," Sam laughed, "Clean?" He asked his bother with a somewhat astounded look.

"No," Dean started but bit his tongue as Sam's eyes moved toward June. She felt her body trying to shrink back from his sight, not wanting to have done anything to upset him. It was a huge relief to see his face convert into an impressed smile and he nodded his head.

"Thanks, you didn't have to do that." A relieved laugh pushed its way through June's mouth, and she shook her head.

"I like to clean." Dean turned at looked at her with a slightly surprised face as well before pointing at her and smirking,

"She's a keeper." With that he chuckled and continued his path into the hall and turned the corner out of sight, his footsteps quieting as he reached his bedroom. Sam sat down casually and opened his laptop, noticing the cord plugged in and laughed. Feeling her nerves settle from the fear of upsetting anyone into a calm happiness, June padded her way to the table and sat on it lightly. The table didn't even move under her weight, and she crossed her ankles, swinging her legs lightly and looking over the huge room once again. Sam had fallen silent with a straight face of concentration until he noticed her eyes on him. He perked up and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"You know, I can help you look for your past. Dean and I have done a lot of that sort of thing, research." The offer warmed June with hope and a grin spread across her mouth.

"Really? You'd do that?"

"Yeah, why not?" Sam laughed once and sat back up straight. "So, what all do you know? About yourself, that is. Where did you grow up?"

"I don't know. I only know I lived in Thermopolis, Wyoming from when I was ten, to eighteen."

"Nothing before that?" Sam sighed out his question, and June simply shook her head in response. "Alright. And you were with a woman, you said Olivia, right?"

"Yeah. But when I asked her if she was my mom, she said she wasn't related to me, and had only just met me. When I got put in the foster program two days later, she disappeared. No one could find her or get a hold of her." Sam sighed again at her answer, then looked up at her about to ask another question, but June spoke first.

"My finger prints aren't in police database, not anywhere. I've already contacted dozens of people with my last name, Howe, who had any daughters or relatives who were my age. Nothing. I got a phone call, once, from someone who I think knew me. I tracked his number down to Bear Lake County, Idaho, but he was apparently possessed and his dead body was found in the house all tied up in a broken devil's trap." Sam blinked a few times and digested the information she'd poured at him, trying to catch and connect them as they slipped from her mouth. She continued a bit more, "The man's name was Jason McAuden. Single man, forty three years old, both parents dead, no other relatives, no job." Her voice quieted until completely fading out. All laid out, it was overwhelming how little she knew about herself and her past. And everything she tried seemed to immediately dead end. Sam's face had fallen, though he attempted to keep it straight.

"Wow. O-okay. That's okay. I'm sure I'll find something. Have you tried putting a picture of yourself up, seeing if anyone recognizes it?"

"I considered it, haven't yet, but I should." She smiled lightly at the sound of Sam's fingers danced around the keyboard and the mouse clicking every so often. “Wish I had pictures of when I was a kid, but those were burned in the fire.”

"I can put up a picture of you on a police database, list you as a missing Jane Doe, and see if anyone comes forward to say who you are."

"Thank you." June said quietly but sincerely. Sam was being so kind, sticking around and trying to help her find her distant past, though he didn't even know her recent past very well. "My name's June Alea Howe; I don’t know if the papers put my middle name in. I'm twenty." She scraped through her mind, trying to think about anything that might be helpful in any way, but the options were few. The feather popped up in her mind, but she kept it to herself. What could a feather stuck in her head possibly do with her past? Sure, it wasn't normal and probably warranted a medical examination, but how much could a feather really tell her? Plus, considering how strange it was, she had a slight worry that a hunter would think it was something bad- but she'd tested herself, with everything she could possibly find- she was completely human. Just, had a feather instead of a lock of hair. Her nerves started to bunch up as she internally fought against telling Sam about it. What if it could help, though? What if something about it clicked with him- they had been hunters in this world of weird for a lot longer than her. But she quickly shut those thoughts down- she couldn't risk something happening to the feather. Something about it meant the world to her.

The sound of the bunker door opening jerked her eyes up at the balcony, where Dean was standing the door way and had turned to face them.

"Food run Sammy; you want anything?" Sam glanced up at his brother and shook his head, his hair flinging a little with the motion.

"Nah. I'm good. Unless you find a good deal on salt, we used a lot on the last hunt." Dean gave him a thumbs up and exited, the door closing and locking loudly behind him. June looked back down at Sam and hopped off the table, picking up her forgotten glass of water and drinking most of it.

"Do you want anything from the kitchen?" She chirped, feeling bored and useless at the moment. Sam's eyes flickered over to her at the sound of her voice.

"Uh, sure, a beer, but you don't have to go get it for me."

"I don't mind, it's not like I'm doing much." She padded to the kitchen and paused, a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. Should she actually bring him the poison, or water instead? She giggled to herself and got the cold can for him anyways. If they wanted to kill brain cells and fog their heads up, that was their choice. The cold can felt nice. June had always liked cold things- snow, ice, swimming in rivers, rain. She rolled it around in her hands as she made her way back over to Sam, placing it quietly next to him.

"Thanks." He said and smiled, picked it up, opened it, and drank some. June scrunched up her nose and scoffed.

"If you say so."

"What?" He replied with a laugh and confused visage.

"I just don't care for the idea of alcohol. It's not very healthy, and it makes people do stupid things." Sam made a classic 'touché' face and shrugged his shoulders,

"Dean and I are used to it- I'm not even sure if Dean _can_ get drunk anymore. Habit just comes with the job, I guess." He paused and laughed once, "For most hunters, anyways." June stuck her tongue out and ran her fingers idly through her hair before stuffing them into her pockets and leaning against the table. For a while it was mostly silent- except for Sam's keyboard and mouse clicks- but June didn't mind. A memory bubbled up from the back of her mind and she brought it up.

"Hey, I found a room earlier, storage place, it had something weird in it." Sam looked up from the computer with raised eyebrows,

"I'm pretty sure everything in this place can be labelled as weird."

"It was half a devil's trap, like the rest was in the wall- is there a reason for that, only having half of a devil's trap? Does it even still work?" Sam's features stiffened and his eyes looked her over before falling back toward the computer in a form of rejecting her question.

"Guess the people before us who made it screwed up," he stiffly stated, but there was an odd feeling to his reaction that struck June's curiosity. But she was at a lack of what to say about it, and figured she could bring it up another time. It reminded her that she really didn't know these guys. When Sam had led her to her room he had talked with her for a while since June wouldn't stop bothering him with questions. She knew that they had been hunting for a long time, Dean was his older brother, and their last name was Winchester. Other basic things as well, but she realized that she didn't know much. Yet she still trusted them, quite a bit. The same could go for her- they don't know much about her, but they hadn't kicked her out on the street yet.

"Oh. Alright." She concluded in an attempt to rid the awkwardness she had brought about. After a long while Sam sat back in his chair and glared at the laptop.

"Nothing so far. You're right to be curious, there's no connections, as if you never ever existed until you were ten." His joking pulled a smirk onto his face and a light smile onto hers. "Might as well take a break, though. Come back with fresh eyes, see if anything came up about your picture." He rose from his seat and stretched his back before crossing his arms and looking around the room with a sigh. "Well, uh, I guess you can do whatever. I think I'll go into the library, Dean and I had found something- maybe a case- before we found you. Might be nothing, but it wouldn't hurt to read a little about it- think I saw something similar in a book." He ran his hand through his long brown hair once again and stood there awkwardly for a few seconds until June replied in order to calm him.

"Alright, sounds good. I actually think I might make a phone call."

"Okay." Sam said with a flash of a smile, nodded his head, and turned on his heels to walk to the library. Garth had made June swear to call him at some point, and it was supposed to be last night, so she figured she'd give the man a little peace of mind. After watching Sam disappear, she trotted back to her room where her phone was still on her nightstand, the 'battery full' screen telling her to take it off the charger. Hitting the few numbers to dial his number, she then pressed it against her ear and sat gently on her bed. When the line picked up she was immediately surprised by a voice already talking.

"Dang it kid, you told me you'd call."

"I know, I'm sorry. Things went downhill, but I'm okay."

"Downhill, what do you mean?"

"Well, the angel sort of tried to kill me, and he almost did. These two guys showed up though and kicked his butt, brought me back with them and fixed me up. Sam and Dean Winchester?" Garth let out a sigh of relief and laughed lightly on the other side of the line.

"They're good men. I should have gone with you, but they'll watch your back. So, I take it you didn't really find much out?" It was June's turn to sigh, and she brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them as she launched into the long winded action of explaining the previous night's events.


	7. Spirits Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An action-packed day comes to a quick closure and a few set backs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one seems to have turned out a bit longer than normal, got a little carried away.

June's back rested flat against the wall behind her, quieting her breathing order to hear the words being tossed around in the other room. She had woken only to be surprised with the boys already awake and seemingly arguing in the kitchen. Her interest peaked, she was aimed to enter and possibly help the situation, but the mention of her name nailed her feet to the ground. She wasn't normally one to eavesdrop, but couldn't find the strength to enter the room until she had a better grasp on the situation at hand.

"Dean, you saw what happened."

"Yeah, I did, and she can handle herself."

"If the angels want her dead, other people- things- probably do too."

"She was a hunter before the angel and did fine then!" Dean's voice raised and there was the sound of a glass thumping on the table. "We can't just leave her here, and we could use the back up."

There was a huff, from what June assumed was Sam, and the sound of a chair moving.

"She'd be safer here, and you know it."

"She's got warding, and Cas didn't say anything about her. Maybe she just had a beef with the guy and didn't know it."

"We can't just drag her out there with us; just leave her here and we can call in."

"People are dying, and we need another hand with this one." Deciding it would be best to join in and give her own input, June watched her footing and walked silently into the room to lean in the doorway. Sam and Dean both had their backs to her. Dean was stuffing weapons and objects into a large black duffle bag on the kitchen table, and Sam was hovering stiffly next to him with his arms crossed.

"Dean, she just got attacked by angel, yeah Cas healed her, but she still needs time."

"She's had time. I'm telling you; she's tough." June chuckled, amused by the bantering, but a little nervous about the high energies bouncing around the room like hummingbirds trying to get outside. She crossed her own arms and walked up slowly toward Sam. A few steps from him he spun on his heels to face her, his hands out defensively, startled by her sneaking. When he recognized her he dropped his hands and brought one to run it through his hair. Dean had snapped around at the same time and was calming down as well,

"Freaking- could you not be so quiet? You're going to get yourself hurt sneaking up on hunters." June shied back a little from his snapping and smiled weakly,

"I thought I was tough, and could handle myself?" She jousted quietly at him, attempting to placate his agitation. It seemed to work and he gave her an annoyed look before zipping the bag and leaning against the table.

"You heard all that?" Sam asked and scoffed, glaring at Dean.

"Well yeah, you guys are like buffaloes in the morning, I knew something was up when you were both awake before me," She explained and tugged at the messy bun still capturing her hair above her neck. "What are you guys even fighting about? You know you can have a conversation _without_ trying to strangle each other." Sam diverted his eyes and Dean scoffed before glancing at Sam and answering her inquiries.

"We found a job, vengeful spirit in Mapleton, Iowa." He seemed to stop talking in order to watch her reaction to his announcement, which consisted of a nod of her head, then a confused smile,

"And?" June asked, raising her eyebrow. "Sounds good to me." Sam cleared his throat next to her and shifted on his feet to face her.

"Are you sure? Because, you can stay here, get some rest, it's not that bad. Nothing Dean and I can't handle." He seemed to grind his jaw, then glanced at Dean to give him another strange look that the boys often used instead of conversations, as if their eyes could say more than their words.

"Yeah, of course. Castiel healed me, I feel fine. I've done vengeful spirits before with another hunter." Sam's eyebrows furrowed as he considered her words, though Dean spoke up before the younger brother could open his mouth.

"Who?"

"His name’s Garth, he's real nice, and he took me in when I was nineteen." Both the boys’ eyes lit up with recognition and Dean chucked lightly. "I take it you know him?"

"Yeah, we know the little freak. He grows on you." Dean explained. June smiled, feeling a bit more at ease and pulled a chair out to sit cross-legged on it.

"Alright. I wanna go, if that's alright." She stated shyly, flashing her eyes between the two before shyly letting them fall. Sam shuffled in his spot and then sighed out in defeat.

"We can't stop you."

"Then it's settled- you good to head out in twenty?" Dean asked, clapping his hands together and looking proud to have mostly won the argument. June nodded her head and Dean laughed, giddily swinging the bag over his shoulder and stomping from the kitchen. June smiled at Sam apologetically,

"I don't have to go, but it's only a spirit, they aren't _too_ deadly." Sam nodded his head and smiled weakly back,

"Yeah, I know. Just don't get yourself killed." He said with a short laugh as he calmed down and got a mug of coffee from the counter. Taking that as a cue for the conversation to safely end, June walked back out of the kitchen to her bedroom to get dressed since she had still been padding around in her pajamas. Changing quickly into a black tee shirt and a worn pair of jeans, topped with her thick red plaid coat, June shuffled her way into the bathroom to tug her hair back down and around her shoulders. After a few seconds to get most of the knots out she brushed her teeth and slipped back into her room. Her hands hovered around the room as she gathered her familiar weapons- two knives from Garth, a knife of her own, a mason jar half full with holy water, and the small gun Garth had to force into her hands. It was always unloaded with the safety jammed on, and hardly ever was blessed with being in her sight. Guns freaked her out enough to make her tremble, and trying to get her to learn how to use it proved impossible for the kindhearted Garth. He couldn't get himself to force her to learn, because she'd shake so bad she couldn't even unlock the safety. Then the angel business popped up and she left, and he had to hide the gun in her bags in order to get her to take it along. In her room now, it had been stuffed into the back of the bottom drawer of the dresser furthest from her bed. She was extremely wary to bring it, but she had just thrown everything back into her backpack and it had made its way into her hand. Not like it would do much, she only had a few silver bullets- which don’t do anything to ghosts- and never left the gun loaded.

As she walked out of her room she nearly collided with Dean, who had his own bag, and they both skipped out of the way. Apparently the startle put a rather frightened expression on her face, because Dean instantly mimicked it jokingly and laughed as he lead the way back toward the main room. Sam was closing his laptop and packing it up when they entered, and he looked up expectantly with a smile.

"You ready?" He asked pointedly toward June, who happily nodded her head and readjusted the strap of her backpack on her shoulder.

Soon they were on the road, the five hour drive filled with mostly Dean's old music, and a few curious questions from June, which mostly received laughter and sarcastic comments. It was a rather peaceful drive, and June had never been to Iowa before, so toward the second half she fell silent to watch the new land unfurl above the shiny back hood of the Impala. Dean had a strong fixation on his car, and had washed it before they left, saying that the last hunt had left 'Her' caked with dirt. Twenty minutes before they would arrive at the house the deaths occurred in, the three of them pulled into a gas station to stock up on salt as Sam reiterated the aspects of the case to June's curious ears.

"So, seven days ago the family complained of cold spots to their air conditioning company, then two days later their teenage son was sent to the hospital with both arms broken from falling down the stairs. The next day their grandpa fell as well, walking up the stairs, but died from a heart attack, or so they say. Later there was an article stating that the father had been killed by falling down the stairs as well, neck snapped clean." He handed a newspaper from the counter to her, stabbing it with his finger and continuing, "Now it looks like they are trying to sue the electrical company, because they had turned the power off to fix a flickering light on the stairs, and it electrocuted him anyways." June smiled and nodded her head,

"Yeah, looks like a vengeful spirit to me- the poster child of one. Fixated on the stairs, maybe died there?"

"Uh huh. We couldn't find anyone who died there though, or related to the family, but we'll have more information to access when we get there." Dean bumped past them to get to the counter the two had accidentally been blocking and proceeded to check out their massive amount of salt with a ridiculous fake last name. Not before long, they piled back into the Impala with June in the backseat as usual, and were almost as quickly pulling over on the side of the road in front of the victims' house.

It was a quaint little thing, not too old and looked to be coated with a fresh layer of blue paint mimicking the color of a Robin's safely guarded eggs. The front windows were a little smudged up at the bottom, the culprit appearing on the other side- a scruffy, white, terrier mix jumping to bark at them through the window. The trio left most of their weapons in the car, though June slipped a handful of loose salt into her deep pocket, just in case. It would have come in handy with the other vengeful spirit her and Garth put down almost seven months back. There hadn't been many hunts June had been tugged along through, only around ten. Sam and Dean hopped up the front steps and straightened their suits, making June feel a little guilty for not having anything fancy to wear herself. But Sam had jumped on her the first time she brought it up and easily hatched the plan that she was doing a job shadow from the nearby private school. She was short enough and looked young enough to pass for senior in high school, according to the boys and half the other people who commented on June's appearance. They had let her inspect both of their badges, pointing out the important features used to make it look mostly authentic- Dean even promised to work to get her one of her own. She'd always been pretty good at lying, but the action itself made her feel terrible. Therefore she'd be smoothly convincing people of her fake name and reason for being interested in the situations, while beating herself up in the meantime, so she wasn't too keen on the idea of pretending to be a federal officer. Getting in trouble freaked her out a lot more than it did Sam, Dean, or even Garth.

They rang the doorbell and June happily hid herself behind Dean's wide stature, glancing between the two men to smile softly at the woman who opened the door a few seconds later. She had dark brown hair pulled into a bun on the top of her head, and was picking oven mitts off her hands after releasing the door handle.

"Can I help you?" She asked. She looked and sounded very tired, which was to be expected, but it almost looked like she had been awake all night. Figuring the loss of a husband could probably do that, June gave her a genuinely warm smile when the woman managed to notice her small form behind Dean.

"Yes, we're here to talk to you about the recent events at your house." Sam said with soft eyes and the two men slipped out and displayed their shining badges. A look of confusion crossed the mother's countenance, as well as a barely noticeable fog of relief that swam into her eyes. She gave them the tiniest of smiles and opened the door more, motioning for them to come in. When she looked curiously at June Sam quickly explained their excuse and the woman shook June's hand. She led them slowly to the living room where an old leather couch sat facing a modern themed fireplace with a small TV resting on top of its mantel. A younger boy was sitting in an arm chair with an exhausted and cranky expression as he shifted his casts on his lap. Both his wrists had been broken, but they luckily didn't go higher than his elbows- though he was still pretty unlucky in the first place. Sam and Dean had sat down first and June shuffled her feet awkwardly.

"Is there any way I could use your restroom?" She asked the woman quietly. She could feel the comfortable weight of the EMF radar Dean had told her to conceal in her pocket, and Sam was the one to tell her to ask to use the restroom to scan the house. EMF stands for Electromagnetic Fields- spirits and demons give of magnetic waves that the radar can pick up. The woman nodded and gave her a tired smile,

"Yes, of course, up the stairs and to the right." June could feel Sam and Dean's eyes burning a hole into her back at the mention of the stairs- Sam had specifically told her not to use them. But the family had to use it many times daily, so there was only a slight chance of anything happening. She specifically avoided Sam's eyes and smiled at the woman before padding around the corner to stand out of sight at the bottom of the stairs. She was still close enough where they would hear the radar had it gone off, so after a few seconds of fearful lingering, June began quietly ascending the stairs with a thin cloud of dread surrounding her. She made it to the top and practically flung herself onto the top level, wanting to get off the worrisome steps. She laughed nervously to herself and slipped the thin, wired-up radar out of her pocket and turned it on, jumping as it instantly lit up solid red and screeched it's unnervingly high pitched alarm. She whistled quietly in surprise and walked down the hall a bit, her breaths becoming shallow the longer the lights stayed lit up.

"They have no idea how bad it is here." She murmured to herself, checking over her shoulder before slipping through one of the doors. It appeared to be the woman's bedroom, for it had a large queen sized bed by the window with a light on either nightstand, and a picture of her with the man June assumed had been the husband. The meter had dipped a little in the doorway, but as soon as the bed got into arm's length, it shot back up loudly. "Shoot." She whispered, padding back out of the room and down the hall. She could hear the familiar hum of Sam and Dean's voices downstairs, happy for them keeping the woman occupied so June could snoop around a little. The next door was the bathroom, then the boy's room. The radar seemed to calm down in his room though, which was unexpected considering it had attacked him. She noted to tell the boys that, and froze when she noticed the silence coming from downstairs. She quickly trotted back to the stairs, but her nerves flared up as she looked down the creaky wooden steps. She bit her lip and started her way down, gripping the smooth rail very tightly. She jumped to the ground from the third step up, relieved to be on the solid ground. A nervous glance was thrown over her shoulder up the stairs before she rounded the corner and nearly rammed into Sam. Luckily she had tucked the EMF radar back into her pocket.

"Thank you, Mrs. Jenner. Here's our number if you remember anything else. We'll call you if we find something." Dean recited with a cheeky grin and handed her a small card, and Sam nodded his head with his usual puppy-dog eyes. Mrs. Jenner was rubbing at her eyes, as if she had either been crying or was trying not to, so June figured they were leaving so soon because she was upset. They were here to help them, and if the woman had anything against the three of them, she wouldn't let them back into the house if they needed to in order to rid them of the spirit ravaging their lives. Sam made a point of standing next to June as the three of them left, and as soon as the door was shut behind them he grabbed June's shoulder to stop her from walking.

"I thought we agreed you wouldn't go on the stairs?"

"It was the only option, and I didn't get hurt." She squeaked with wide eyes. Sam had a bit of anger in his eyes therefore she avoided them until he sighed and dropped her arm.

"Just be careful." He said and motioned for her to keep walking. June nodded her head quickly and glanced at Dean, who looked a little unhappy about her putting herself in danger as well, because he was attempting to soften the scowl off of his face. When they got to the car, Sam took the job of explaining what had all happened in her absence.

"Well, she says the odd things have been happening constantly for a month now; she seemed really scared."

"Well yeah, she said the gas stove kept turning on while they slept." Dean quipped before getting into the driver's seat. Sam ignored him and continued,

"Her husband had been electrocuted by the outlet even though there was no power running through it, then fell and broke his neck. Her son fell, said he tripped on the top step as if something was in front of his foot," He sighed and got in at the same time as June, who laughed quietly as all three doors closed at the same time. "It just doesn't really seem like a vengeful spirit. No one she knows had ever died there until now, and when I looked it up last night, I couldn't find any violent deaths either."

"You think it's something else?" Dean summed up and glanced at his brother out of the corner of his eye as he pulled the car back out onto the road.

"Just seems off. Like we're missing something."

"Well the EMF was through the roof, solid red. I thought the alarm was going to ring my ears off." June added in. Sam turned his head over his shoulder to look at her with a confused face then slipped into concentration as he turned back around.

"Well, we still gotta take the library and station." Dean offered and pulled to a stop at the intersection. Sam nodded and shuffled the papers in his lap. "Sam and I can take the station, you think you can take the library? There shouldn't be much there to deal with, since Sam dug most of it up last night." June nodded quickly with a grin. She loved research more than the actual action, and she did it better. She'd taken to being Garth's personal research monkey, and loved every minute of it. And it was just a library, so Sam hopefully wouldn't give her much trouble about being by herself- which he didn't, to her luck, because they dropped her off with simply smiles before pulling off to head to the police station. June smiled and waved before turning and walking into the library, admiring the huge, incredibly clean windows as she entered. A nicely dressed woman only a little older than her was putting books from a cart onto shelves, and an older man with stark white hair and a scruffy beard smiled up from behind the counter. June smiled back- he reminded her of an older version of teacher, Mr. Stretner. He taught history, and had a stack of old books nearly as tall as the door next to his desk for students to borrow as they pleased.

June made her way over to him and ran her hand through her curls idly as he lifted a finger and finished talking on the phone he had held up to his ear, which possessed a glossy white hearing aide. When he said goodbye in his scratchy but warm voice, he set the phone down and linked his fingers.

"And what can I do for you, young lady?" He said politely.

"I'd like to see your residential records for the past ten years in this district, I'm new to the area and just got a small job for a newspaper, and I'm looking for someone certain, a John Doe." A few minutes online had revealed the library was currently in possession of those types of records after a flood put the police’s storage room out of service. Luckily they were all public records. The man nodded his head and held up a finger as he shuffled quickly into the back room behind him. He came out with a cardboard box that had so many dates scratched out on it, that she couldn't tell which one was current. He heaved it onto the counter and smiled at June, who grinned in return and took the box easily into her arms and over to the table closest to her. It didn't have much in it, considering this was a very small town, and the district the house and library were in was even smaller. Happy to not have too terribly much to leaf through, June picked up most of it and spread it out to take over the whole table. There was only three other people in the room she could see- one looked like a middle school student, a woman moseying through the romance aisle, and another elderly man sitting at one of the computers with a slightly confused face and clicking the mouse rather loudly. The files were a little dusty, and it was generally easy to pick out the packets containing information for the neighborhood the Jenner's house was nestled in.

It took her a little over an hour, but she had thoroughly dug through each packet and read all through it. But not a single file included anything about any violent deaths or murders of any type. By the end June's face had a frown plastered on it from the lack of finding anything helpful. When she looked up, the older librarian was gone and the girl, a little older than her with her brown hair braided into a bun, was sitting quietly behind the desk with her nose stuffed in a book. The door opened and set a cascade of jingling bells into the large room as Sam walked in and smiled at June as he caught sight of her behind the large box. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and smiled widely at her before looking at her with hopeful eyes.

"Well two dogs got hit on the road the house lived on." June said with a sheepishly smile, "but no violent deaths or anything; house has been perfect up until now." Sam hung his head and sighed.

"Well it was worth a try. Nothing helpful at the station either, Dean was just happy they had miniature donuts there." Sam scoffed and flipped through some of the folders. After a few seconds his phone went off, causing June to flinch and the librarian to look over with judgmental eyes. Sam opened it quickly and smiled apologetically at woman. There was woman's voice on the other end that was rather loud and sounded panicky, and Sam instantly stood up. He motioned for June to clean the table and stepped aside.

"Ma'am, just calm down. Can-" He was interrupted with more shouting on the other end. "Can you get outside?" More babbling, "Okay, just calm down, get your son and go to the kitchen, get salt," He glanced at June and jogged toward the door as he continued talking. June scooped everything up and heaved the box over the counter.

"Thank you." She said with a rushed smiled.

"Any time. Beautiful feather in your hair." She mentioned kindly. June froze in place, a feeling of anxiety flooding into her veins and fear pinning her feet to the ground.

"T-thank you." She said, then turned and left before the woman could respond. She did glance up at Sam to check that he hadn't heard, but he was already outside and running to the parking lot. Good. She didn't really want others to know about it, considering it might make them uncomfortable or want to know more information, which she didn't have. Following quickly, June caught up in time for Sam to get off the phone with Dean and begin impatiently pacing.

"She said the house is shaking, doors and windows are blocked off. It's gotta be a poltergeist. Dean dropped me off and is headed back here from the motel." There was a distant rev of an engine and the pair turned and jogged to the road as the Impala came to a slightly screeching stop. They threw themselves in and Dean instantly pulled a U-turn and took off at an unsafe speed toward the house. "Doors slammed shut, her and her son are downstairs, I told her to make a salt circle but she sounded pretty hysteric." Sam added stiffly.

They turned sharply into the driveway and all piled out. Sam and Dean sprinted to the trunk and jammed it open, pulling out guns, knives, and the salt they purchased earlier. June sprinted to the door and checked the handle- couldn't even turn, as to be expected. Sam stomped up behind her and she scooted respectfully out of the way as he tried it himself and then slammed his shoulder against it enough to shake the porch. Dean practically appeared next to her and shoved something against her in the heat of the moment and then pressed against the door as well, shoving. June looked down at the gun in her hands as she felt the barrel press against her stomach. Instantly she jumped back and dropped it, letting it clatter to the ground as she swiveled away from it and backed down the steps. Dean heard and spun his head around to see what the commotion was about, and froze in his place as he looked from her to the gun. Luckily his attention was drawn back when the door began to budge a bit, and they slowly shoved against it like pounds of sand were on the other side of the door.

"Come on!" Dean shouted deeply at her and looked pointedly at the gun. Her hands trembling, she scooped it up and blocked it from her mind as Sam managed to squish through, then her, then Dean afterward. The door slammed so loud behind them June stumbled forward. There was a crash and a woman's screeching from the kitchen. In their scrambling at the trunk, Sam had scavenged together four hex bags, one for each corner of the house, and shoved two into Dean's hand, one into June's shaking hands, and loped to the right into the kitchen. Dean sprinted to the living room, but as he reached the coffee table, it darted toward him and knocked his feet out from under him, where he landed hard on the table, crushing it into multiple splintered pieces. His hex bags slid from his hand and splayed across the room. June dropped the gun and whipped her head to glance around at her surroundings, taking in each detail in order to scratch together a plan. Darting forward, she scooped one up, chucked it at him, and grabbed the other for herself as she sprinted for the stairs. They had to get one in each of the four corners and the poltergeist would be expelled, and there were two corner upstairs that were calling to the only person not unavailable.

There was a grinding noise under her foot as she reached the middle of the stairs, but other that than she scrambled onto her stomach on the top floor relatively unscathed. She shoved herself back up to her feet and sprinted fast enough down the hall to the right that she slammed full force into the door when she missed the handle. Her shoulder throbbing from the impact, she shoved it open and dove around the bed. The frame began to shake and quiver, the wood straining and squealing. She shoved the nightstand out of the way and kicked a hole roughly into the wall. As soon as the hole was big enough she dropped to her knees between the wall and the bed and tore at the drywall to make room for the bag. A cold air brushed over her and June snapped her head over her shoulder to see the bed begin to slide toward her. She sucked in a breath and dropped flat on her stomach in time for the bed to crash into the wall over her, the frame barely an inch above her back. It shook and rocked above and around her, crashing holes into the wall and she reached up with labored breathing toward the hole. The frame smashed her hand and she cried out, pulling it against her chest and dropping the small hex into her other hand then shoved it into the biggest hole she could reach. Everything stopped so suddenly around her that a wave of dizziness swirled in her head. She gasped for air and scooted out from under the bed, then collapsed in a kneel cradling her hand. Multiple bones were definitely shattered. She rolled the bottom of her shirt up around her hand to keep it from moving too much- though she knew Dean was going to have to reset the bones anyways. The thought pushed her to the other door at the end of the hall and she squeezed the second hex bag in her good hand. Luckily adrenaline was still masking much of the pain that she knew was going to suck later. There was a shout, Dean's from downstairs, and the sound of cracking wood. She could also hear noises from the kitchen, mostly the woman's high pitched screams of fear.

Busting through the already ajar door, she flew into the boy's room and slid on her knees to a stop under the window. She yanked her foot out from under her and kicked it twice, cracking the wall but realizing she had hit a support beam. She hissed and kicked a few inches over. The glass above her seemed to disintegrate, raining down on her like boiling rain. She squealed in surprise and ducked forward against the wall, covering her head with her good hand. When she stopped feeling the glass patter against her coat, she leaned back and jammed the bag into the wall. Suddenly she realized everything had fallen silent in the upstairs area- there had been a constant background noise of grinding and groaning wood, but it had fallen silent besides the echoes from downstairs. Trying to catch her breath, June slowly stood up and shook herself, listening to the glass slip off of her and bounce onto the wood floor beneath.

She trotted to the top of the stairs again and froze- the middle was on fire. Lovely. As soon as her foot touched the first step, it shredded under her foot and she fell up to her knee in the hole before catching herself and falling forward. She tumbled down a step before stopping herself with the handrail. Clumsily rolling to her feet, June stumbled down to the fire and mumbled, “Jack be nimble, Jack be quick. Jack jumped over the candle stick,” then sprinted through it.

The heat surrounding her legs sent ironically cold shivers up her spine as it tore holes through her mind, opening clear views into the fire in her past with Ruth. She hadn't noticed she'd reached the end of the stairs until she slammed on her hands and knees onto the hard wood floor. Her hand instantly scream with white hot pain underneath her and she rolled over, gasping and biting back any pained sounds from escaping her mouth except for a few whimpers.

There was a crash in the living room, then everything was filled with so much silence that it seemed to hurt June's ears. She sat up on her good elbow and slowly pulled herself to her feet, wiping tears from her face she hadn't noticed were there. There was a groan from the kitchen, then Mrs. Jenner began crying quietly. Leaning against the wall for support, June looked into the kitchen to see Mrs. Jenner hugging her also-crying-son against the wall with the kitchen table turned up as a wall to protect them, where forks were shoved halfway through the thick oak wood. Sam was heaving for breath in the corner with his eyes partially closed and a cut on his lip and cheek. There was a noise behind her and she turned to see Dean with also labored breathing, a cut on his forehead, and a gash on his upper arm that was bleeding an unhealthy amount. He seemed to forget about his injuries for a second and looked her over, freezing on her hand which she had once again wrapped in the bottom hem of her black tee shirt.

"I'm okay." She croaked and gave him a weak smile before walking to the pair of Jenners. She knelt down and quietly moved the table away, holding out her good hand. "It's okay, it's all over now." She cooed, and the mother took her hand. Curling her arm around her son, the mother allowed June to help her up, then leaned against the counter and wiped her eyes. Her son was shaking lightly, but looked uninjured. "Are you hurt?" June said quietly as she watched Dean help Sam up from the corner of her vision. The woman was at a loss of words, and simply shook her head no, but then looked at the cut-open palm of her hand. June smile softly and placed her good hand on the mother's shoulder. "Go outside, we'll be out and bring you to the hospital, get you some professional stitches." She murmured then leaned over and grabbed a wad of paper towels, gently placing them in the woman's palm. She nodded in thanks and herded her son out of the house.

When June turned from the woman to look at Sam and Dean, they were watching her quietly, Dean curiously and Sam with the hint of a smile. She smiled back weakly then halted as Sam's smile slipped away. Dean moved forward and reached at her head, the look of concentration on his face directly the opposite of the confusion on hers. He brushed her hair and the room was filled with the sounds of their labored breathing and soft pattering of glass falling onto the ground. There was a sharp prick on the top of her head and she ducked down out of Dean's reach, bringing her good hand to her head.

"Hey, don't move; stay still." Dean strictly stated, and she forced all her joints to stiffen. He reached forward and ever-so-gently slipped a shard of glass that was poking into her scalp out and dropped it. She flinched and felt a warmth on her head, alerting her that having the glass removed allowed the cut to begin to bleed. Sam moved forward as well and the three of them regrouped themselves. Dean picked up her gun from in front of the door and gave her a face that made her regret watching him- it wasn't anger, but it was a form of annoyance that told her he was going to have a few words with her later. Sam opened the door and the three walked out, Sam moving forward and guiding the two frightened victims toward their car, where he would bring them to the hospital, whilst Dean made his way to his own car with Sam's and his own weapons gathered in his arms. June sprinted ahead and opened the trunk for him and he dropped everything inside, straightening it enough to close the door, but June stuck her unharmed hand in first and slowly organized it a bit more out of habit. Dean grumbled incoherently at her and moved aside, leaning against the side of the car. She glanced up in time to see Sam toss them both a smile from the driver's seat of the woman's blue minivan then pull out and turn toward the center of town to get them medical attention, and hopefully tell them a lie to parrot to the police.

She pressed her hand against the top of her head, feeling a bit of blood on top, and sighed before looking down anxiously at her injured hand. A few of her fingers were purple, and anything that wasn't, was swollen and red. She ground her teeth and closed the trunk gently before walking with trepidation around to the same side of the car as Dean, since he didn't look like he was getting into the car any time soon- not without putting in a few words of his own.


	8. Dream Collisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A interestingly frightening break in June's subconscious wall gives her a breakthrough that leads to more than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I'm sorry about posting this so late. School caught up with me at the same time as my laptop broke, and I accidentally lost this entire chapter when I thought I had saved, and hadn't. Sorry for any of you out there who actually read this.

June and Dean stood side by side, Dean holding a stare off into the distance, while June looked over the house they'd just purified from the poltergeist. It looked pretty normal from the outside, besides one upstairs window being shattered. Pretty productive day, considering they saved two lives and however many more that would have been threatened, at the cost of a few deep cuts and a smashed up hand.  There was a few seconds of awkward silence before Dean manned up and spoke first.

"How's your hand?"

"It's okay. Sort of broken, in a few places." She said with a nervous laugh. Dean grimaced and tipped his head back, and the silence returned. June was the one to break it this time.

"Sorry about the gun." She murmured and let her eyes fall to the gravel driveway beneath her shoes.

"What even happened?" Dean said, his voice raised a little louder than normal, but not in a hostile way.

"I just panicked, that's all."

"So what, you're afraid of guns?" He scoffed at the crazy idea- hunters were practically dependent on guns, in his opinion.

"Sort of." At June's reply, Dean froze his casual movements and turned his head to face her with his eyebrows lowered in confusion.

"Really? _Guns_? Kid, you gotta get over that, life or death maybe come to blowing something's brains out." His voice was gravelly again, the way it always dropped when he was getting agitated, rubbed the wrong way. It wasn't a surprise to June for Dean to react strongly toward her dislike of guns, because she'd seen him cleaning his guns almost as much as she'd seen him eating. But having someone with anger caused or directed toward her sent chills down her spine.

"I know, I'm sorry." June mumbled and gently turned her hurt hand in circles to inspect it. 

"You'll learn to like 'em. I'll give you lessons in the gun range." The words were like fishing hooks, piercing June's skin with fear but holding on, not letting her shove the words aside. She knew that was going to be offered eventually, but she'd hoped to have already ducked out on her own before the opportunity arose.  

"Uh, I dunno, let's j-just get back and get things settled down first." June mumbled, tripping lightly over her words and shying toward the passenger seat. Dean's features softened visibly and he ducked his head in a short few nods.

"Yeah. Yeah, sounds good. Don't worry about it." He seemed to have noticed her nerves, whether it was her slight trembling or act of literally running away from the conversation. She was haunted by her past without knowing what it even was, and he didn't want the present to haunt her either. Though the drive to the hospital to pick up Sam was deathly silent, and once present, even Sam spoke up after a few minutes in the air so thick with tension he could nearly take a bite out and chew it up. 

"Did something happen?" 

"Naw', just tired, man." Dean said quickly and curtly before turning the music on quietly. Sam was unconvinced, but June smiled up at him from the back seat so he let it slide off his mind. A few more times conversations were picked up, mostly containing the stories of each person's own version of what happened in their corners. Sam had come into the kitchen to see silverware spinning in the middle of the room and flipped up the table in front of the mother and son. He had been thrown to the side and doubled over the counter, when the sink began to pour and overflow on him. He crawled across the room and threw salt across the floor as a precaution before making his own hole and tossing his bag in while avoiding flying kitchenware. Dean, on the other hand, had been pinned behind a china cabinet for most of the fight. The glass had stuck him pretty deep in the arm, so currently he was holding some cloth to his arm and Sam was going to stitch it up at home if not earlier. When the dresser let him down he kicked it against to wall where it cut open a hole for him to toss the hex bag into nicely. The woman hid behind the table the whole time, cradling her son and screaming as silverware lodged itself in the table, deeper each time. She would be okay, physically at least, and only needed two stitches and some Band-Aids. 

They did end up stopping along the way to stitch up Dean, then Sam took his place driving while Dean napped in the passenger seat. June quietly watched out the window for the majority of the rest of the drive. In the last few minutes before they would reach the bunker, Sam peeked at June through the rear view window, noticing June cradling her hand once again. 

"Hey, is your hand okay?" He asked with a large frown. June realized Sam had not known about her hand and flushed, not quite wanting to have to have her hand reset, even though it was needed.  

"It's okay, it's not too bad." 

"Okay. I'll take a look at it, we're almost back anyways." June scowled, though she knew it was necessary and would relieve the pain coursing up into her arm, at least a little. Her eyes felt heavy, and she wanted to sleep, but being only a few minutes from home was enough to keep her awake as their headlights flashed over the door to the bunker as they parked on the gravel road. Dean by now had awoken apparently, because he huffed and got out at the same time as Sam. June on the other hand stretched and leaned against the door, lightly running her fingers along the purple bruises and swelling on her hand as she relaxed. The door behind her swung open and she started to fall out, but Dean caught her by the neck of her jacket and held her up. 

"Whoa, sorry." He chuckled as she stumbled out of the car and laughed along with him. "Still not used to someone being back here, been a while, since Cas just 'poofs' around everywhere." June laughed and pressed her hand against her stomach- the pain was beginning to push it into her constant attention. When they made their way into the bunker with loud huffs and a few yawns, they dumped their stuff on the table, June noting to clean it up in the morning. She rubbed her eyes but doubled over as she, stupid with sleepiness, brought her hand up and had pressed it against her head a little too hard. Sam flinched and hovered his hands over her and she straightened back up slowly, holding her hand out a few inches from her body. Dean was standing stiffly in front of her, and took a step forward holding out his own hand. She hesitantly offered up hers and he turned it lightly, looking it over. "Looks broke." He concluded and gave her an apologetic smile. Sam frowned from over her shoulder and moved around to look at it as well. 

"This one here’s only a fracture, I think, on the thumb." 

"Neither sounds fun." June whispered with a wimpy smile. Sam sighed and tugged her shoulder, accidentally reminding her of the sore muscles that were likely already bruised from the impact of hitting the door, but she stuffed down the flinch that tempted to react to his grip. 

"Come on, we gotta fix that before it heals wrong anymore." Dean said quietly and walked ahead of her toward her room, which she was grateful for because she planned on sleeping as soon as her pain would allow. Once inside she sat down and curled her knees tightly against her chest, resting her purple hand on top of her knees lighter than a feather, and digging her other hand into her hair to intertwine with the feather. She's only ever had one bone reset, and that was the smallest knuckle of her pinkie, so she knew it was going to hurt a heck of a lot worse with her hand. It seemed to be the knuckle of her middle finger, a bone in the middle of her hand, and a lower bone on her thumb where it was connected to her hand. Sam followed in with two ibuprofen and a glass of water- he was smart enough to not bring whiskey like Dean would have, or she'd have swallowed them dry. She scooted over and sat back against the pillows so Sam had room to sit next to her, and he handed her the pills which she took gratefully. She'd always hated getting fixed up by Garth. Because of her small stature, she tended to get thrown around and injured a lot- that's why Garth stopped taking her along on hunts. He'd spend more time helping her up than killing the monsters. 

Dean walked out of the bathroom with a sullen and sorry expression on his face and stopped a foot in front of her. He made eye contact and waited for her to move her hand, which took a few seconds, but she eventually got the courage up and lifted it shakily.  

"Ready?" Dean quipped, watching her cautiously. June simply nodded. 

"Alright, on three. One-"  

_Crunch-crack._

"June?" Sam said quietly, his face paling as she fell limp in Dean's hold. His words didn't even reach her ears, for the tired and pained woman was shocked into the lull of unconsciousness.

"She's okay. Easier this way anyway." Dean grunted and set the last bone with a grimace- he never liked resetting bones, it always hurt a ton, and that was the one thing he lived to prevent- those he cared about getting hurt. Sam seemed frozen in spot as he stared at her for a few seconds, then dug through the first aid kit and pulled out a bandage, thrusting it out at Dean. Dean wrapped her warm hand up tightly, slightly relieved June wasn't having to go through this pain, then placed her arm gently on her chest. He noted the dried blood in her hair and turned to Sam. "You get her head, I'm gonna get more pills for her when she wakes up, something stronger probably. Maybe she'll even buckle down and take a swig?" He jousted and gave Sam a smirk, though his brother only sighed and gave him his infamous annoyed expression. Sam eventually nodded and walked into the bathroom to get a wet washcloth.

\-----------------

At first everything felt soft, a little fuzzy, then her senses cleared. June could feel the familiar shape of the car seat beneath her, the dislike for the plastic object overpowering her reason that she was simply smaller than most children. Though she did like the extra height it gave her to look and observe out the windows. Her mother hummed in the front seat and made a silly face in the rear view mirror at her, pulling out a string of light laughter from June's grinning mouth. The child leaned forward and rested her arms on her knees, and her head on her arms, smiling up at her mother who had returned her eyes to the road. The car slowed a bit, then picked up movement. Car rides had always entertained June, the sways from side to side, the world flying by like it was on fast forward- her mother’s singing with the radio always filling in the background noise. She couldn't really hear the words; she wasn't paying much attention, but the placating tone of her mother's voice was enough to keep a constant smile on her small mouth. The car moved a bit to the side, switching lanes to the right, then again. Her mother's voice had slipped away, leaving only the hum of the tires on the road like mosquitoes hitting low notes of a song.

June’s mother’s eyes flashed into the mirror, though they glanced behind them rather than at June, then at the clock. They were late- June could tell. They were late to things sometimes, mostly because her mom was so busy all of the time. With her and daddy going to the court-people all the time, car rides were the times she spent the most relaxed periods with her mother. She managed to catch her mother's eyes and smiled widely at her, and her mother smiled back, opening her lips enough to flash her white teeth. Little June snickered and turned her head over her shoulder to watch out the back window- her favorite view.

Suddenly there was an incredibly loud noise, like 'a metal lion being shot by a cannon', her mind described. Her body and the entire car jerked toward her mother, and glass flew around in the air. It all happened so fast- first they were moving, then they were not- simple as that. Except with a lot more pain- excruciating pain, flaring up June's trembling back. Shock froze her mind as she turned her blurry vision around, crying as it hurt to turn to face frontwards once more. In the front was a mass of metal, glass, and red- dripping, dark, red. She could feel burning like fireworks on her back and arm, and her vision locked on one thing through the twisted wall of metal- a thin white rectangle. The license plate on the front of the car that was trying to enter their own car by force, like shoving a cube through a circular hole. It read "4Rj 509". She had no idea why the plate attracted her wide, watery, grey eyes, but it did.

4Rj 509.

Four 'R' 'j', five, zero, nine. It burned into her head, blaring with every beat of her heart, engraving itself onto the back of her corneas, flowing into her veins and shooting toward the flaring pain on her back, soothing it, soothing everything. The sounds- shouts and sirens, they all faded. The bothersome car seat faded beneath her, the pain becoming blanketed in numbness, all connecting to one small code. Something about it stuck, the image refused to flee from her mind.

4Rj 509.

\-------------------------

The dream had been so realistic, so clear and frightening, that June was shocked to open her eyes and be in her bedroom in the bunker. Her mind was still frozen on the image of the license plate, and she rubbed her eyes, which had tears threatening to spill over. She knew of course it wasn't a dream, but a memory. An awful, traumatizing memory. But now she had something. It was the first time in so long- practically her whole life- that she had something to follow that could lead her to her past. She could track the license plate and find the records of the accident. The pain on her back was still lingering, enough that she had to sit forward and twist around to make sure it wasn't actually injured. The action froze her stiff in place, catching her breath in her throat. The scars on her back, the four white lines that ran horizontally across her spine like lined paper _had_ to have come from that car accident- it was the only explanation.

Her body now fully awake, it registered and doubled the pain throbbing from her hand. She coughed and cradled it against her side, swinging her legs over the edge of her bed, though they hovered an inch above the wooden floor beneath. The movement turned her head to glance at the nightstand where an erect glass of water stood with two small pills nestled up against it, the condensation threatening to dissolve them. She smiled weakly and took them quickly, the cold water soothing her sore throat. As her mind reached full awareness as well, she instantly stood up and padded to the door with her now-wrapped hand pressed against her stomach. The hall was dark besides the normal faint light coming from the main room. Her steps silent as she walked down, she caught a glance of the clock through the entrance to the next room- it was a quarter past three.

The time was the main reason she froze at seeing Sam at the table, hunched over it. Realizing his mind had succumbed to the sleep he had been depriving himself of by staying up, she sighed and carefully plodded to the table. Considering this was not the first time she'd found him like this, a slight twinge of worry fluttered into her head that the man might actually do this on a regular basis- which couldn't be good for him. But for now her only interest was the laptop that was open in front of him, though the screen had long since turned black due to inactivity. She crossed to the table on the opposite side of him and slid the thin and slightly battered computer across the table and turned it to face her, shaking the mouse to awaken the screen. June glanced once more around the screen to make sure the light hadn't awoken the sleeping giant, but he was still lightly snoring away. Pulled up were a few tabs, the one currently open was on the weather patterns of Michigan- he had been searching for any omens that might pop up, other jobs. Those crazy boys, keeping themselves so busy that it was sure to be the death of them- especially when one considered what they kept themselves busy _with_.

"R, J, five, zero, nine." She mouthed silently to herself, enjoying the way the numbers and letters felt when formed with her own mouth. She tapped the keys as lightly as possible, typing in the number and adding in the words "license plate" in the weak hopes to find something with just that- and she did. The third search down looked promising and she took the bait. It lead her on a few rabbit trailed before finally to the name Reginald Franklin. "Reggie", as she found he was often called, was a white man in his mid-thirties with short cropped red hair and thick eyebrows. His face, in the one picture, was dusted with some stubble and his eyes were squinted from either the sun or his wide smile. He lived in Lolo, Montana. You really could find anything on the internet these days. Losing herself in the information, June let everything else around her fade until she was solely focused on the search. Digging a little deeper she found he had been divorced once, was in a newspaper article for winning a "pumpkin tossing contest", and graduated from a public school in the same town.

But the most vital piece of information she yanked up from the depths of the internet was that he had been in three automobile accidents over his years. One when he was twenty where he hit a tree avoiding a raccoon, another that same year where he got a DUI, and the last that landed him in jail for a large portion of his life. He had been drunk, and hit a small green car containing a woman and a young girl. The woman had convinced the press to not release information about her- either that, or June simply didn't have the ability to get that far. But she did scrounge up the hospital they were taken to, as well as the phone number for their main office. Her breath caught in her throat, June scrambled and yanked a paper and pencil in front of her where she quickly wrote down the phone number and address. It was the St Patrick Hospital in Missoula, Montana. For good measure, she wrote down the license plate number of Reggie's car. Apparently the accident hadn't been very tasty for the press, because there really was basically no information about it anywhere that June could find. Nothing about the two girls, and even a lack of any more information on Reggie himself. But it was enough. June savored the few moments of actually having a lead for the moment, and scribbled down Reginald's license plate number on the paper, once, twice, as many times as she could until her hand would remember the motions even if her mind forgot the exact numbers. Finally feeling as if she couldn't sit still any longer, she closed the web page and quietly shut the laptop.

The act revealed Sam's still sleeping form to her view, and she bit her lip as her mind began to collect the facts around her about the situation. Sam and Dean obviously had a pretty important thing going here. She had noticed they had been working on something big on the side, and at the same time they were going out and saving peoples' lives. And Sam had caught on to something, according to his weather research. Why should she bother them to come along on this search with her? They'd already put her back together and back on her feet, and they would be fine without her- they barely even knew her. It would be different if it was something involving the supernatural world, but it was just a car accident in Montana. She could get there in two days, since it was a nineteen hour drive and she needed breaks in-between so she didn't lose her sanity. And she had her Enochian warding, so it wasn't likely for anything to find her unless _she_ tracks something down, like summoning the angel. And she had to leave today- there was no question about it. She had to get there as soon as possible- the quicker she gets there, the sooner she can get around to knowing her first ten years. Though now she knew a few minutes of her life from when she was seven from her dream only about an hour ago. Therefore, there was no need to drag them along. They were tired, and had more pressing matters there. June would have her phone, she'd leave them a note, and if either woke up before she left she'd explain then hit the road.

Getting to her feet, she turned the closed laptop to face Sam once again and folded the paper up before practically sprinting back toward her room. Her injured right hand throbbed from the movement- luckily she was left handed- and she slowed down as she entered her bedroom. She set the paper on the bed and tugged her backpack out from under her bed. She packed quickly for she didn't have too much in the first place- just her few sets of worn clothes, and her weapons were still on the table from earlier. Realizing she was still in her pajamas, June slipped on a pair of jeans rather than her shorts, and pulled her usual read coat over her shoulders to cover her grey tank top. Her comfortable boots were shoved back on her feet, and soon she was hunched over her dresser, writing a short note to the boys since she didn't have the heart to wake them so early after they'd been so tired before. She mostly wrote that she found something about her past, remembered it in a dream, and was heading out there to figure it all out. She noted she was going to have her phone and to call her if they wanted to make sure she was okay. Mostly her reason for writing the note was a slight fear that they wouldn't let her leave so quickly had she woken them up. They'd want her to stay a while, since they had stressed that having angels wanting to kill you warranted staying in the bunker. They'd tell her to wait a few days to heal up, but she could drive with one hand, wasn't that big of a deal. Plus, even though she'd only known them for a few days, she didn't really like saying goodbye. Not with the sad puppy-eyes Sam would give her, or the brotherly feelings they would use to guilt her from leaving, at least for a little while. But such circumstances required immediate action. She folded the letter automatically intricately and heaved her bag onto her shoulder, turning in a circle to look over the room. After she was done with this whole thing, maybe she could come back, if they'd have her. She liked it there, and besides Garth and her comatose grandmother, they were all she had. A glimmer of hope emerged at the thought of family- there was no telling what she was going to find up at that hospital- she might even find her mother. She hadn't seen if she had died, just saw a lot of blood- but June had seen that much and have the victim survive before- she'd bled that much _herself_ and survived before, though that was a different matter.

She trotted as quietly as she could back into the main room where Sam had now stopped snoring and had turned his head over, and placed the paper in front of his well-defined arms and slowly slipped her bag of various weapons off the table. It rattled and shifted from the movement and she sucked in a breath, watching with a hint of fear in her veins to see if it had woke Sam, but it had not, surprisingly. Maybe it had only seemed loud because of the stress of the moment. June backed away slowly into the kitchen and set her bags on the table to fetch some rations for her first spurt of driving, since she would be on the road for hopefully around six or seven hours before she had to stop. Her armload back to her bag included two water bottles, a Pepsi she had gotten when they had stopped to stitch up Dean, a box of Ritz crackers and an apple. She could get more along the way, but for now she really had to get out and hit the double yellow lines.

After stuffing everything into the two bags, she proceeded to haul them onto her slender shoulders, being careful to avoid bumping her injured hand, and attempted to climb the stairs as quietly as her feet and the metal steps would allow. When she bumped her right hand on the rail she hissed, for a second considered that she should probably get a cast. She shoved the thought down by telling herself if it got bad enough, she'd get it fixed once she got to the hospital- which she remembered she had forgotten to call ahead of time, just in case. The door was stiff, and it took a good three minutes to get it opened and closed with the quietest levels of groans and clangs, but it seemed to have been quiet enough for her escape. She hoped the boys wouldn't be to upset about her slipping away without telling them in person, but this wasn't anything big, and they didn't need to be involved. She would call if anything came up, they knew that. Though she did expect to get a rather long rant through the phone once they awoke and found her missing.

Thoughts continued to buzz around her head as she trotted down the dark gravel road. The world still asleep around her- it was a little chilly, and the crunching of the gravel beneath her boots was about all she could hear. There was a frog somewhere, though she couldn't seem to pinpoint its exact direction. Her little car had been parked around the bend out of sight- the night they took her home, while she was out, the boys had gotten a friend of theirs, Bobby Singer, to get someone else to tow her car down there, and Sam had gotten it from town to bring it to the bunker. Always thinking things through, those guys.

She opened the door which she had left unlocked, probably stupidly, and tossed her bags in. Happy to have the weight off her frame, she rolled her shoulders and stepped back, her sigh letting out a furl of fog in the dark morning air. She slipped her phone out of her pocket where the paper was folded around it and unfurled it as she leaned against the cool side of her car. The sound of the buttons sounded obnoxiously loud in the open silence, as well as the ringing when she pressed it to her ear.

"St Patrick Hospital, general office of Missoula, how may I be of assistance to you?" The quiet tone of a young woman yapped after two rings.

"Hi there, I was wondering if it was possible for me to ask about an automobile accident thirteen years ago." June knew it was a stretch, asking the front office for something as old as that, and it became even clearer when the woman stumbled for a response.

"I-I'm sorry, Miss, but that's quite a long time ago, and it might take a while to find the records, assuming they aren't confidential." She replied quickly, and there was a shuffling of papers in the background.

"That's okay, just, if I come down there, is there a chance you guys would still even have records that old?"

"Yes, we _should_ have them, but I can't guarantee how much information is on them. May I ask what you are looking for?"

"A car accident involving a mother and child thirteen years ago, caused by a man named Reginald Franklin. The woman's car was small and green, the man's license plate number-"

"Ma'am, why don't I give you the number to the police headquarters of this county, I'm sure they would be of more help to you." June could hear the woman's tone switch into a sort of preparing-to-hang-up tone, and scrambled for a second.

"No, no that's okay. I'll head down there and talk to them myself."

"Okay. I'm sorry we couldn't be of further help to you. Would you like me to keep your number in the system, should something come up?" The woman's tone still sounded like she was trying to hang up yet still be polite about it, so June decided enough was enough. Especially since her voice sounded doubtful during her last offer.

"Sure. Uh, thank you, bye." June replied curtly before hanging up the phone. She had already planned on stopping by the station there, though she had been hopeful the hospital would be able to give her more. "Oh well." She whispered into the open space around her as she slipped into the car and started it up. She shoved her bags into the back seat, though tugged a water bottle out and put it into the cup holder before glancing once more at the thick metal door of the bunker as she pulled out and around the black Impala toward town.

\-------------------------

"SAM!" The blaring yell boomed and echoed through the bunker. Sam woke with a start and shoved himself to his feet, pushing his hair out of his face and rubbing his eyes as he looked around. The chair tipped and threatened to fall over, so he scrambled and stopped it.

"Dean?" He shouted back and headed toward the bedrooms. The sound of a door slamming blew toward Sam and he quickened his pace, nearly ramming into Dean, who came around the corner with his face stiff as a statue.

"June?" Dean shouted, pausing to stomp toward the kitchen and stuff his head into the doorway. He slapped his hand against the door frame and looked meaningfully back toward Sam, who had quickly realized the situation.

"She just gone?" He asked quickly, more in thought than anything else, then ducked into her room to check it as well. Dean padded to the table and rubbed his face, glancing at the clock that read a little past eight- they'd slept for quite some time, definitely long enough for anything to happen. Sam returned with a huff and looked around as he spoke. "No signs of a struggle. You think she just, left?" He asked, but Dean was already distracted by a neatly folded paper bird on the table, with writing covering it. He cocked his head to the side and scooped it up, glaring at it in confusion and curiosity as he unfolded it and smoothed the creases with his thumbs. After skimming over it he sighed and looked up in an annoyed face, shoving it toward Sam then rubbing his face as Sam snatched it. Sam read it just as quickly then sighed as well, dropping it on the table.

"Look, she couldn't have gotten far." Dean started, then began heading back toward his room with intent. Sam followed, since his room was the same direction, and murmured his own thoughts.

"What is she thinking? Angels, and who knows what else, want her _dead_ , of _course_ it's a monster thing."

"I know." Dean said and turned off into his room to get dressed and throw some stuff together. "Let's just find her, okay?" He shouted through the closed door as Sam shook his head and trotted to his own room.


	9. Taken Aback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dismissing the Winchester's pleas to return, June continues on to smoke out her past, but bodies she digs up aren't always dead. Once again in an attempt to discover her past, she endangers herself in the present.

"What were you thinking? No, you _weren't_ thinking." Dean's voice came through the phone surprisingly loud, considering June had already held it a few inches from her face in the first place. She felt her face flush and bit her tongue. When the phone had rung, June already had a pretty good idea of who it was, and what the conversation was most likely going to consist of. Therefore, it wasn't much of a surprise to hear the outburst from Dean- she even expected some harsh ranting from Sam at some point too.

"I know, I'm sorry, but I just remembered something, and I had to jump on it- You'd do the same thing." She quipped glaring at the road ahead of her. She'd only pulled out of the rest stop a half hour ago, since she'd arrived there sooner than expected and had time to take a nap before diving into another six hours of monotonous driving.

"Not without telling anyone!" He countered and she could hear him walking- pacing, was more like it.

"I left a note." June murmured quietly and laughed nervously when he scoffed.

"We thought something _took you._ You couldn't have said something? You nearly set the paper _on_ Sam." She could hear his voice give the tell-tale drop into a gravely sound, though at the same time it quieted, making her suspect that Sam had entered the room. "Where are you?" He stated. Though it was a question, there was no choice for her in the matter for it was actually more of a demand.

"If I tell you, are you going to drag me back home?" She said, surprising herself with the hotheaded reply. But she knew better- they drove faster and were not afraid to drive for over twenty-four hours straight, and would most definitely catch up and bring her back to safety. Or maybe they wouldn't. There was always the chance that they might just tag along- and the thought of that pushed a sigh from her mouth in defeat. "I'm heading to Missoula, in Montana." She said quietly as she switched lanes. There was suddenly the sound of a shuffle from the phone as Dean covered the speaker as if it would actually prevent her from hearing his words.

"She's going to freaking Montana." Dean stated, obviously talking to Sam, before removing his hand. "Just pull over. Where are you at right now, we're on our way."

"I'm on the highway, Dean, just let me get to the next town- I'll be in," she glanced out the window, "Casper. I'm uh, in Wyoming. Drove all morning."

There was another scuffle, on the other side, longer this time, as well as some muffled words then silence.

"June?" Sam's voice piped up, surprising June.

"Hey." She said sheepishly- she didn't really want another rant.

"Alright, just, we're on our way. Why did you just duck out like this? Last time you went off somewhere, an angel- of all things- tried to kill you." Sam said, and June could hear him working to keep his voice down.

"I'm sorry. I remembered something, in a dream, a car crash I was in. My mom was there, and, I saw the license plate, Sam. When- I just had to leave right then, you know? It's only an eighteen hour drive from the bunker to the hospital where the victims were sent, I think _I_ was one, and I have those scars, and-"

"June, hey, calm down. It's okay." Sam said quickly to stop her from her rant, for she hadn't yet noticed her voice had begun raising an octave from the stress of the situation. She flinched in her seat as she noticed her raised emotions and slowed her car down a bit. "We'll be there soon, okay? You shouldn't have gone alone." He had switched into a disappointed-parent sort of tune and then sighed before hanging up. June dropped the phone onto her lap and sighed as well. Almost to Casper, then to Billings, then finally Missoula- finally a step toward figuring some things out.

It wasn't too long before she had slowed down and entered Casper, and another phone call confirmed they would be meeting at a motel there that Sam had pulled up on his laptop. It was a few hours though before the boys finally pulled into the parking lot where June was relaxing on the top of her car, of all places. Sitting inside of it had gotten too compact and boring, and when she stepped into the warm sunlight she acted on impulse and had stretched out on her hood, then gradually moved to a sitting position on the top of her car. She used to sit there while Ruth washed the windows- which the woman did quite often because of a hate of bug splotches- in order to stay out of the way and achieve a new and unusual vantage point. The impala jerked a bit when Dean spotted her odd location, then it slipped smoothly into the adjacent parking space. They got out in sync, and strode over to her car, one man on either side. June smiled sheepishly down at them, and Dean gave her a forced smile, while Sam gave her a small but still genuine one of his own. She slipped down onto the ground in the silence next to Dean.

"Alright. We eat, then we head out. Preference?" He said assertively and tapped his hand on the top of the car. His abrasive tone from earlier had completely vanished, leaving behind his normal sarcastic and joking self, as well as a grin. Not caring where they ate, June simply shrugged her shoulders- as long as she was able to get something in her to give her energy for the day, she was all right. Dean clapped his hands together and laughed happily, "Ha, burgers it is then." He moved around her and opened her back seat, tugging her bag from the car- of course they were taking the impala, it wasn't like Dean was going to leave it anywhere unattended- and no one would bother her car- then they could just swing by and get it on their way back.

After a quick stop at a burger joint just down the street, filled with greasy smells and jokes galore as well as a good catching up that June gave the boys about Reggie and the accident, they were on the road again.

"So, earlier you mentioned scars- what are we talking?" Sam asked, obviously bored since it had been about two hours by then.

"Nothing too bad, but probably needed stitches. Four of 'em, on my back. I was watching out the rear window when we got in the head-on with that drunk, Reggie. I didn't know where they came from before, so it didn’t make sense to mention them much." June shrugged her shoulders and then crossed her arms as a light smile brushed across her mouth.

"What else you hiding, a third limb?" Dean joked, and June laughed along, though she couldn't help but casually run her fingers into her hair across the feather. Luckily her hair had grown since she was younger, so it was completely concealed by now. She had been wary about wearing her hair up when she first joined up with the Winchesters, but when she thought it about it realistically, it just looked like something average hippie girls clipped into their hair.

"No extra limbs." She confirmed with a laugh in her voice, "Only other thing is a little round and dark scar, on my stomach." She added and shrugged her shoulders again. Sam shook his head with a roll of his eyes and turned back to face frontwards.

"So, you knew it was your mom in your dream; do you know anything else about her yet?" Sam asked, drawing out the conversation smoothly.

"No. But at least I know what she looks like." June replied with a sad smile. Sam turned his head over his shoulder to smile sympathetically at her before turning around. The majority of the drive, including their stop at Billings, was pretty quiet and casual- besides June knocking her head on the hood once when getting back in.

It wasn't until they actually were pulling into the parking lot at the hospital that June began to feel as if the world was closing in on her. She hadn't really thought too much about it during their travels, but this was what she had been working toward for what, seven, eight years now? And that was if they actually had any information for her in the first place; it might be another dead-end. She ran her hand through her hair and stared out the front window, even until after Sam and Dean had both exited. She took pity when they began awkwardly shuffling and got out as well with her arms crossed over her chest. Sam smiled widely at her and crossed the parking lot with Dean while she followed behind quietly. The overwhelming feeling began slipping away, and she was actually grateful they'd tagged along.

A wall of cleaning agents and warm air blew over them as they entered, and June shriveled up her nose. It wasn't that she didn't like it, it was actually quite familiar because of her time spent watching over Ruth, but it was always a bit strong at first. She'd always liked the smell of hospitals, oddly, it felt familiar even the first time she'd been in one- after the fire. At least, that was the first visit she could _remember_ \- there was the car accident that she just learned of, so who knows how many other times she'd been in one.

They stopped in the main lobby, looking around for the main desk, which they found twenty feet ahead and around the corner. A woman with bleached-blonde hair pulled up into a bun on the top of her head was glaring down at a heavy stack of papers, completely delved in her work. June trotted to the counter and crossed her arms, leaning on it. She glanced over her shoulder to watch Dean plop down in a chair, and Sam lean against the wall watching her and the secretary curiously. The woman, whose name tag June noticed said Rhonda, looked up with a blank stare at June before actually registering June was waiting for her.

"Oh, sorry, how can I help you?" She said, and June instantly recognized the voice from her previous phone call, though it was a little more awake now since it was half past five in the afternoon.

"Hi, I called early yesterday morning about some thirteen-year-old records." June explained and the woman's face slid into an apologetic smile.

"Yes, of course. I can see if I can find them, but we had a flood three years ago, so it might have been lost." Rhonda stood from her seat and smiled sheepishly then turned around to exit the desk area to go down a staff hall behind her. June heard Sam walk over from behind her and turned to see him lean against the counter next to her, Dean perking up from the corner of her vision.

"They'll probably have it." June said, assuming Sam had heard about the flood a few years back. She mostly did so to reassure herself, not Sam, but it did give her a little peace of mind when Sam nodded his head in concurrence. She turned and moved to hop up and sit on the counter, but stopped herself and instead leaned against it. It wouldn't look too professional to see a twenty-year-old woman sitting on the counter like a child, she just had a habit on sitting things, such as the roof of her car or on top of her pillows on her bed.

"Even if they don't, then we can track down, Reggie, or whoever- where did you say he lived?" Sam asked and raised his eyebrows.

"In Lolo, fifteen minutes from here." June recited quickly. She actually knew quite a lot about Reggie, at least enough to spook him if need be. His ex-wife's name, had her phone number written down, his email and phone number written down, where he went to school, the officer in charge of his parole he had just gotten allowed, and a bunch more personal facts. She had always liked doing research.

June turned around at the sound of Rhonda returning in time to come face to face with a large box of files right at eye level. She stepped back and to the side to actually be able to see Rhonda. The woman stood up straight and began picking through the files, though her hands already knew the general location because she'd probably checked it in the back. She slipped out a few old, stained manila folders and smiled broadly at June.

"It _was_ in the flood, but they hadn't been hit hard enough- actually, sort'a looked like they didn't see that they got wet- so they kept them. These are the ones I'd be able to show you from thirteen years ago." She set the stack down and sat down as well, then looked up expectantly at June. June herself jumped into action.

"It was a front-on automobile collision, a man named Reginald Franklin, a young woman, and a seven year old girl." She stared, then paused as Rhonda began fingering through the files. June's nerves began bunching the further Rhonda got through the stack, and her heart went cold as the woman's slender fingers got past the last file. Rhonda's eyebrows furrowed and she went back to the box, pulling out some faded red folders with a curious frown. She flipped through those as well, stopping at one in the middle. She pulled it out and glanced up at June before pulling the front paper out.

"We have this, car crash, one male, two females- Yeah, Franklin, Reginald." She flipped the folder over, then back to the front then bit her lip. "Well, this apparently was a little serious- it's labeled to refer to the head medical adviser, Dr. Jared Galentine." She frowned and tapped her fingers on the desk, then stole a cautionary glance at June. June was a little surprised, considering none of the articles had mentioned anything about the injuries, and she figured if it was bad they would have said so. She was also worried- she was fine, Reggie was fine. All that left was her mom. "He still works here, he's on break in an hour. If you come back then, I can pull him aside for a few minutes, see if even he's allowed to tell you about it. I'm sorry, I can't tell you much more."

"It's okay, we can come back." June replied and smiled softly. "Thank you." She added and perked up a bit. So what if they only had to wait an hour? It's not like they had anywhere else to be. Rhonda smiled back warmly and moved the box to sit on the floor by her feet. June spun around to face Sam as Dean stood up- he had obviously been listening from his seat- and flashed a smile. Sam stepped forward with a mirroring smile,

"You know, we can stop by Reginald's, and be back with plenty of time." He offered with a shrug of his shoulders. Dean nodded and glanced at June, who laughed lightly and gave a thumbs up.

"Sounds fine to me." She replied, and smiled once more at Rhonda before shoving off the counter and meandering toward Dean with Sam following close behind. The group made it to the door before Rhonda's voice picked up behind them.

"Oh- Wait, ma'am." She quipped and appeared around the corner facing them. "Doctor Galentine is right here, his last patient cancelled." June grinned at Sam and Dean and trotted back toward Rhonda enthusiastically, knowing the boys would follow with a more casual appearance behind them. Doctor Jared Galentine was an old man, tall and skinny with short silvery hair on his head and cleanly shaven. He had a thin white scar on his chin, and wore casual attire with a stopwatch in one hand, and a blood pressure wrap in the other. He smiled widely, flashing very white teeth, and moved his possessions into one hand to shake June's as she and Rhonda stopped in front of him. June could hear Sam and Dean follow as well, and stepped aside as they reached her, and they shook Galentine's calloused hand as well.

"Well hello there. Rhonda said you were looking for me?" He asked with a voice that sounded well used yet still soothingly smooth. June nodded her head,

"Yeah, there is a file," She glanced at Rhonda who wiggled her fingers and trotted to get the folder from her desk, "And it says we needed to come to you before we could see it. A car accident thirteen years ago, with one man, a young woman, and her seven year old daughter." June looked back at the doctor with wide and curious eyes.

"I think I recall that one, but I've had my fair share of car accidents," He turned to face June, "I'm one of the head Neurosurgeons here at Saint Patrick's." He turned to look down at the folder Rhonda held out at his hands and took it into his grasp, instantly opening it when Rhonda had seen the symbol and acted as if the folder had been physically locked. He thumbed through a few pages while nodding his head, then closed it quietly. "Yes, I remember this. One of my first. May I ask why you have interest in it?" June glanced at Dean who unfortunately didn't catch the question and was trying to peek at the folder, so she took a chance that she figured she may regret later.

"I think I'm one of the victims, the seven year old girl. But I lost my memory when I was ten." The look on Galentine's face went from placid to boldly curious, his eyes even lighting up a bit.

"Your name?" He said with a tilt of his head. She glanced at Sam this time, who was already looking at her with a nervous expression. But sadly she didn't have the strange ability to communicate silently like him and Dean could, so she gave him a weak smile and answered quietly.

"June Alea Howe." The doctor's eyes widened and his mouth pulled into a smile, and he shook his head lightly in awe.

"Yes. Allison and June Howe." He responded, the new name sparking in June's head. So her mother's name was Allison.

"Do you think you could tell me about what happened? I don't remember, well, anything about it."

"Yes, I do believe I can do that," Galentine glanced at Sam and Dean, "Isn't your mother still around?" June bit her lip and let her eyes fall a bit.

"I don't know, I haven't seen her in a long time. It's a long story."

"Ah." Luckily he seemed to settle for that answer, and tapped the file in his hands, though his eyes flickered back at the boys. Catching on, June figured the file must have had something confidential in it, and in the heat of the moment she spoke before anyone else could.

"Dean, why don't you guys go get something to eat, or track down Reginald or something. I'll be fine here." She gave Sam a wide grin, and he gave a weak smile in return.

"Alright," Dean said, looking her over protectively for a second, "Call if you need us." He locked eyes with her and nodded curtly, then looked to Sam, who wavered then followed him out the door into the darkening evening. June turned back toward Galentine, who motioned for her to follow, then headed off with him down the hallway to their right.

They came to an office that had some pictures of the nervous system, as well as waterfall painting. She plopped down in a chair in front of his desk, and he sat down comfortably at his own rolling chair. He dropped the file and sighed, pulling out a pair of reading glasses practically out of thin air, opened it up, and spread the papers out.

"You and your mother showed up pretty messed up- you had lacerations on your arm and back, lot’a blood loss. Mom was unconscious, hits to the head, collarbone, knee, and back." He flipped the page and sighed, "Reggie was alright- you mother's airbag deflated late, she took a lot of impact." He raised his eyes to June, "You were bandaged up and out for a few hours, but your mom was comatose for four days. You," He snickered weakly, "You gained the hearts of a lot of people here, lot’a questions bouncing ' around up there. Had free roam those four days. When your mom woke up, she called red flag- no one was allowed to let you guys' name out, she flipped. She, uh, she was paralyzed, from the waist down from her injuries." His voice faded at the end, and June snapped her eyes up and snatched the papers into her own hands.

"For good?"

"Yes. Her spinal cord was pinched, we couldn't even try surgery, and it could tear the cord." June's head swam for a few seconds until she forced herself to focus.

"C-can you tell me anything about her past? Or mine, for that matter?"

"Well, what all do you remember?"

"Nothing before I was ten, besides a few minutes of the actual crash." His eyes widened and he sighed, taking the papers back and replacing them in the folder.

"I don’t think the crash would have done that,” He started then shook his head and went back to their topic, “I'm sorry, your mother, she clammed up. She gave us her name and credit cards, I don't even know if she had a job, or lived nearby. She cancelled the cards the next week, we checked. Didn’t even give us an insurance name, either." June fell silent once again, and rubbed her forehead with her hand in thought. She hadn't been expecting that. She had hoped for a little more than this- actually she'd hoped for a way to track down her mom, find her, if she was still alive. But deep down in her head, in a little crevice she worked to close up, she had already toyed with the idea that her mother wasn't alive anymore. Wouldn't she have found June, if she was alive?

Galentine sighed, and then looked up at the sound of a knock on the door before it opened.

"We've got a trauma case on the south entry way, we need you for emergency surgery. Extreme head trauma, blood loss." The nurse stared at Galentine then ducked back out, and Galentine stood in sync with June.

"I'm really sorry, but I just don't have what you're looking for. I'd try the police station. You said Reginald earlier- the man from the accident, right? He didn't know anything about you guys, but checking in wouldn't hurt." With that he grabbed a white coat and jogged out the door and down the hall out of sight. June balled her hands into fists and rubbed her eyes, which were heavy with stress and disappointment. After a few seconds she fished her phone out of her pocket and rolled it in her hands as she walked back to the lobby. When she looked up she was already there- she was surprised she knew the way back so well, until she remembered the doctor's story of her free-roaming over the building. It brought a sad smile onto her lips and she leaned against the wall. A man walked in front of her toward the exit then stopped and stared at her with eyes wide from shock. June looked around nervously, instantly uncomfortable, and raised her eyebrows.

"Can I help you?" She asked very quietly. The man blinked a few times before responding.

"Are you, June Howe?" This put a stake of fear into June's heart, and she instantly tensed up. She _always_ used fake names, ever since she was nineteen and actually met a good number of people.

"Why do you ask?"

"You just look like her, a child, I knew years ago. I-I'm sorry, I must be mistaken." He moved to turn away and June reached her hand out,

"No, well, I mean yes. I'm June. How do you know me?"

"I worked here as a janitor when you were here from an accident." June looked over the man with new-found curiosity in her eyes. He was Mexican and had very short-cropped, dark hair, and equally dark brown eyes. He was short- about her height, and a little pudgy, but she still didn't feel an air of familiarity.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember that, it was so long ago. Would you remind me?"

"Yes, yes, of course- oh you were the brightest little girl. So much energy, and _so many_ questions, Lord." He chuckled and clapped his hands together, "I was just leaving, I had an appointment here, but I have to get back to work- walk with me?" He asked with a bright smile. June smiled back and nodded her head.

"Did I tell you anything about myself?"

"No, no. But you said loads of other things." He shook his head and stuffed his hands in his front pockets. "About types of butterflies, and recipes, things about frogs that I still find unsettling!" He said enthusiastically tipping his head back with his grin still plastered over his mouth. They slipped out the door into the now quite cool air, the florescent street lamps buzzing as they slowed to a meandering pace across the mostly empty parking lot. A flicker of a thought passed into her mind that she should call the boys, but she figured a few minutes wouldn't hurt- they would be back soon, considering they didn't like leaving her alone there.

"Did I say anything about my mom?"

"Just that she was hurt, I think. That she was asleep. You wandered around like you owned the place, opening all the doors- made friends with some elderly patients down the hall, knew the two nurses in your section by first name." They stopped at his small black car and he unlocked the door. June laughed lightly and watched him. He was a rather merry man, seemed a little odd, but no one was normal these days, not anyone she knew anyways.

"I'm sorry, what was your name? I should have asked earlier."

"No problem, my name's Adam." June smiled and nodded her head, putting her hands into her back pockets comfortably.

Adam perked up and looked at something behind her quickly. "Oh, Doctor Galentine." He chirped and smiled. June turned around quickly with an excited smile, then froze- no one was there. She quickly caught on and snapped her head around in time to get a solid crack to the side of her head from Adam's fist. She dropped to her knees and he kicked her ribs, knocking her to the side a bit. She ducked under another blow and stood back up, shoving her hand out to block another hit, but a little too late, for she slipped and he hit her shoulder. He had caught her off guard, and now she couldn't catch up. "Thought you'd know my name by now. Shame." He breathed out as he grabbed and held her wrist tightly. She flinched and he tilted his head to the side, then looked at her wrapped hand. He slid up and squeezed her hand and she squeaked loudly in pain- it was her injured hand. There was crack and she actually cried out, but he clocked her head and everything darkened to an engulfing black. She felt the ground come up to smack her back, and the pain released from her hand, and an all-too-familiar feel of numbness overtook her. Her last thought, which she found odd, was her feather, then her warding- how did something find her while she was _warded_? The image of the feather was the last thing in her head, and when it faded she was left unconscious with absolute caliginosity.


	10. Waking Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taken by treacherous Adam, an attack on her physical well-being unleashes a wave of memories, that bring along a helping hand.

Waking up with a major headache is one struggle, but finding yourself unable to move is a whole other mountain. As June's consciousness slowly crept back to her, she felt that she was in a sitting position, and unable to move her limbs more than an inch. The realization brought a rush of adrenaline into her body and she picked her head up weakly and blinked her eyes open. Looking down she could see through her slightly blurry vision that her wrists and legs were tied to a chair, the source of her inability to stand. Panic rose into her throat and she tugged at the bonds, then snapped her head up to look around at her surroundings, which she had only just noticed had changed. She found she was in a small room with one covered window, and two doors. The floor was cement, and the walls were painted a cracked, crusty orange. The first door was on the wall across from her, the other to her right. She had been bound in the center of the room, alone in the barren space. Her mind kicked in and stretched for any ways of escape- she couldn't move much, her right hand was throbbing with pain once again, and by shifting her ankles she could tell her knife had been seized. She figured the same with the one in her pocket and tried wriggling in her tight bonds. Her head hurt quite a bit from the short scuffle and fall, and her side most likely had a nice bruise. Though she knew that was going to be the worst of her worries.

She had a hard time believing something could find her through her warding, unless they were tipped off or just happened to be there by circumstance- but nothing is _really_ a coincidence, is it? Her first guess was an angel. One who had somehow known what she looked like, and saw her somewhere, maybe on her trip into town, and tailed her. Another encounter with an angel wasn't going to go very well, even if she hadn’t been injured and tied up. Though, the fact that she _was_ tied up made her a little wary of settling on the idea of an angel. They are incredibly strong, as her first encounter proved, and wouldn't have any need to tie her up- if they wanted her dead, why not kill her in the parking lot? Why keep her, tie her up?

By now her nerves were flaring and every movement she thought she saw hiked a new wave of fear up her spine. So it was no wonder that when the door in front of her opened, she would have jumped up out of her seat had it not been for the ropes. Adam, the man from earlier, walked in slowly with his eyes narrowed and head tilted slightly to the side, watching her as if she were a zebra at the zoo- not dangerous like a lion, but as if she just looked... odd.

"Good morning." He chirped, and his straight face pulled into a smirk as he crossed his arms and stopped a few feet ahead of her. June chose the safer path and kept her mouth shut, figuring a hot tongue would only induce pain upon her at the hands of the man. He didn't seem to have the same demeanor of the first angel, more of a sadistic feel. He sighed and tilted his head to the other side. "How did you do it?" He asked, then his eyes narrowed once more. At a loss, June simply shook her head and looked at him with tired, fearful eyes. There was a stiff silence that only increased the pressure of the atmosphere and she spoke up with a very quiet voice.

"Do what?" She clamped her mouth shut again, watching Adam intently.

"You know what I'm talking about, don't play the fool." He rolled his eyes and his posture relaxed a bit, though it was almost less frightening when he was stiff and wary. He padded forward and walked around to the right of her, slowly walking in a wide circle around her chair.

"If you'd tell me, I might be able to help." June replied, turning her head over her shoulder as she watched him. She caught him smile and shake his head at the ground before she had to snap her head around over the other shoulder to continue following his movements. By then, the smile had softened back to an amused face, and he stopped by her left shoulder.

"Help. I do like the sound of that, actually. A placid prisoner is always the best, am I right?" June paused, unsure of what he was looking for from her, then nodded her head once and dropped her eyes to her wrists. She could curl and uncurl her fists, though she didn't dare do so to her right hand. "You really don't remember anything, anything at all?" He asked and moved to stand in front of her, his eyes now wide and curious.

"No."                        

"Pity, quite a pity my dear- but you must know _some_ things. There are some things so unusual that one tends to remember them, even threw the cloud of amnesia."

"I don't know anything before I was ten." She repeated quickly, the words rolling off her tongue. It felt weird, how many times she'd said that recently, considering she hadn't spoken much of it previous to the fire.

"You know about the car accident, don't forget."

"Yes, I know that now." She pulled her eyes from her wrists to watch him carefully. A trickle of curiosity seeped into her mind- he knew more that she did, obviously- what if he could tell her? How much would he know- the only thing she knew about him was his name, Adam. Her mind screeched to a halt. Adam. _Adam_ , the name of the man who called her during the fire at Ruth's- but she had tracked that number, it lead to a simple house. No, it wasn't simple, how could she forget- upon arriving, they found a man who had been found dead in the middle of a devil's trap- a _broken_ one. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows furrowed, "You're a demon." She stated, with a slight tinge of shock in her voice.

"Ding, ding, ding, give the girl a prize." Adam chuckled, and his eyes flickered solid black then quickly back to brown. The action forced another wave of fear and adrenaline surging into June's body, as well as something tickling her in the back of her mind- something she couldn't put her finger on. Recognition? But she'd never seen a demon before- She stopped herself; not that she remembered, anyways. "But cut the chatter, let's talk about the elephant in the room." He had a mischievous look upon his visage as he slunk around to her side again. "I think you're a nice girl, really. So let's talk- lets be friends; 'besties'- can you do that?" June raised her eyebrows.

"I- I guess, if that'll make you happy." She stammered and forced herself to continue looking forward, rather than following him and craning her neck like a fool.

"Oh, that would make me _very_ happy." He replied. The eerie reply overcame June's fighting and she pulled her head around to look at him, only to find his face a few inches away. She squeaked in surprise and jerked her head back, causing the chair to tip a bit and rock off one leg. Adam's hand shot out and caught the back, pulling it back onto all fours. "Oh settle down. I wouldn't hurt my friends." He mused and crossed his arms once again. "The elephant, I repeat."

"I don't know what you're talking about, I swear-" June started, but was cut off by his loud laughter like nails on a metal pole.

"You're _soul_ , kid. Geeze, you used to be _so_ sharp." Her jaw clenched and she bit her lip. Everyone kept saying that, bringing it up like it was obvious.

"What is with it with everyone and my soul?" She hissed and tipped her head back, feeling slightly fed up through her fear. Now two people- well, things- had attacked her and mentioned it, and it wasn't like she could just go to a doctor and ask 'How's my soul looking, Doc?'.

"Don't play dumb." Adam growled and slapped his hand onto the back of the chair, gripping it and turning it a bit toward him. "Friends don't keep secrets." His head tilted a little further to the side than normal, sending off macabre vibes.

"I don't have any secrets." June breathed out nervously. Adam's face hardened and moved behind her chair, then sharply dragged it and her toward the wall so the back smacked against it. She could barely feel the cold wall against her back.

"I'm trying to be nice here. You really wanna push it?" His words here laced with a dangerous tone that sent shivers down her back, especially when he planted his hands on the wall on either side of her and stared down at her. She shook her head and dropped her eyes to floor in overwhelming fear. After a few second he sighed and dropped his arms to his side. When she head the ruffle of clothes June pulled her eyes up in time to see him spinning a knife in his hand. "Push all you want. We've got time." He said quietly, pulling his eyes from the knife to lock with hers. June twisted in her seat, tugging at the bonds around her wrists. The situation had just gone from creepy to incredibly dangerous, and her instincts were screaming for her to run, but she couldn't. Adam simply sighed out a single laugh, then quickly flicked the knife at her thighs, slicing a thin but long cut horizontally across both thighs in the single movement. June cried out and shoved the ground with the tips of her toes, attempting to shrink into her chair, hoping that if she curled up small enough, maybe she'd just disappear.

"I don't know what you want." She blurted, holding back tears that were threatening to run trails down her cheeks. But she figured that would either make him mad or make her seem weak, and neither sounded pleasant.

"What did you do to your soul? How'd you fatten it up like a turkey in November?" He shouted, the increase of noise causing her to flinch and tuck her head against her left shoulder. Fatten her soul? She was pretty sure she'd remember if she did something to _alter her soul_. She hadn't done anything but live a normal life for as long as she could remember, and she doubted anything could have happened while she was ten- she was just a child.

"What do you mean?" She asked, and forced herself to look at him, her head automatically cocking to the side.

"Ugh." The demon exhaled and tipped his head back in annoyance. He jerked his hand forward and cut a thick gash on her side, waiting a few seconds before removing the knife. June screamed quietly, but then bit her tongue as her mind practically exploded with images. She instantly thought she was going to throw up, and almost did, until the thoughts and images slowed and she actually began seeing them- memories. They came and went so fast she could barely decipher them- A dark room, then the sound of a gunshot, then this warm feeling, then extreme pain in her stomach. She saw her mother- in a wheel chair. The scene morphed out of perspective then came back to show her a smiling man, holding woman's hand that was not her mother. It jumped again and she was in a room, not much different than the room she was in now. Everything seemed to come to a halt in the incoming memories, sticking on the one of her in the damp room. She was looking down at her own body, covered with masses of cuts and dark red stains of blood on everything. The pain, in her arms and legs, stomach and collarbone, her feet- it felt like she'd been hit by a truck. When her sight flickered and changed she was looking up, at a man walking slowly from her with his back turned, but she knew- knew with everything she had in her it was Adam. Different vessel, but she _knew_ it was him in there, puppeteer of the innocent man, carrying the knife covered in her own blood and setting it on a table in front of him. More images flashed in her mind- pictures of him carving into her skin, the burning feelings coming back as if they were still happening- and then everything stopped coming in, and instead seeping into her mind- letting her remember, as least some things. As soon that occurred, she was back in the current, Adam still drawing the knife back- barely a second had passed, but she has just seen years’ worth of memories. She didn't have time to really look at the memories before she realized her situation and instinctively pulled a name from her head. From a weird memory, the warm one.

"Gabriel." She murmured, and the word brought on more memories. Gabriel was an angel. One she had met personally- though she couldn't remember exactly when, but she knew it was multiple times. The only memory she actually had, was her and the angel leaning against a tree, in a park. She realized it was park from her childhood.

_June ran her hand through her hair and slid her back down to sit at the base of the tree._

_"But why would she do that?" She asked, tipping her head up to look up at Gabriel._

_"She was somehow trying to protect you, kid." He said with a soft laugh and sat down as well. He sighed and glanced at her. "You know you can't stay this time either, right?" He said, motioning around them, "Orders are orders, and you're supposed to keep on chugging along down there."_

_"I know," June replied, and smiled up at him softly, then let her eyes fall back toward the ground, "But what am I supposed to do without her?" Her voice came out in a whisper that slipped away into the light breeze blowing the warm summer air around them._

_"You're tough, look at all you're been through already- you'll make it. And you know we're always listening, if you call. Only emergencies though." June nodded to his words and smiled._

Suddenly Adam froze and his hand holding the knife began shifting it in his grip. "You wouldn't dare." He hissed, anger causing his stout form to shake and his nose to crinkle into a sneer. There was sudden rush of wind, enough that June pressed her head against her shoulder once more. Adam snarled and shoved the knife into her gut, with enough force to rap her chair against the wall. More memories of her previous time with Adam, when he tortured her like she was guilty of skinning his children, poured into her head until the corners of her vision began to dim. She looked down at her stomach, which was burning intensely and draining quite a bit of blood onto her lap, then up at Adam in muffled shock.

A flash of light engulfed the room and blinded her temporarily from the change in light levels and the intensity it was shining. Then black, once again. She was starting to feel like she was getting used to being unconscious, because it almost felt calming, like she was safe. While her mind was, her body definitely wasn't though.

\-----------------

Dean slammed the door open and chucked his backpack across the room, where it crashed against the foot of the bed. Sam followed him in hot pursuit with his phone pressed tightly against his ear.

"Okay. Call us if anything at all comes up." He said, then hung up and stuffed it in his pocket.

"We were gone for twenty freaking minutes, twenty minutes." Dean shouted and fought to even out his enraged breathes. "We never should have left her alone." He fumed and walked toward the door.

"Where are you going, Dean? We've been out there for _eight hours,_ we've looked everywhere. At least make some calls so I can set up a missing person’s report." Sam barked and stiffly set his laptop on the table, then tossed his bag as well.

"Then I'll look again!" Dean yelled blatantly, though he turned and stomped back toward the table where Sam was leaning forward and typing away at his laptop. Sam's phone rang, and he jumped and dashed for it from his bag. He fumbled for it then jerked it to his ear.

"Sam?" June's voice said weakly into his ear.

"Oh god, June are you okay? Where are you?" Sam said breathlessly and hunched over the table.

"Um, I-I'm not doing so hot." She mumbled, her words slurring a bit.

"Where are you?" Sam snapped.

"I'm, uh, I'm in my room. At- the, uh, Bunker." She said with a very tired voice.

"What?" Sam said loudly in shock. "What?" He repeated at a loss for words. He began to scramble, "How? _What_ \- are you hurt?"

"Y-yeah." she said quietly. Her voice broke a little and Sam stiffened.

"What?" Dean barked, his teeth clenched so tightly he could nearly hear it in his ears. Sam held up his hand at him, then pulled the phone away.

"Cas. Call him, we need to get back to the bunker."

"What?" Dean stammered and blinked a few times.

"Dean, _now."_   Sam said angrily then put the phone back to his ear. "June?" He asked quietly, trying to keep himself calm, "We're on our way, just hang in there."

\-----------------

June had closed her eyes in the room with Adam, and opened them to the sight of her bedroom unrolled before her eyes. She was lying on the bed in the dark, therefore when she looked down she couldn't see the injuries, but the blinding pain told her they were still there. She felt a bit disoriented from the change in locations, as well as _very_ confused, and exhausted. The blood loss was getting to her a bit by the time she had called Sam, and her words were hard to push out of her mouth, therefore slightly slurred. Sam seemed distressed, which she expected.

"... Just hang in there." Sam's words crawled into her head, and it took a few seconds for her to remember they were still in Montana- where she was supposed to be. Gabriel had put her here, she assumed, though she couldn't think long on the subject before her head lulled forward sleepily.

"M'kay." She slurred back at Sam. She hear a deeper voice in the distance through the phone,

"What is it?" Castiel's voice said, barely loud enough to register. Then the phone blasted out a loud static noise and she dropped it in surprised, then managed to lose it in the blankets. She futilely fumbled for it, then gave up and laid her head down. She was so tired, and sleeping seemed to be easier than staying awake through her pain- she deserved a break, she figured. But as soon as her eyes closed she snapped them back open at the sound of her door slamming open. June attempted to prop herself up on her elbows but it brought on enough pain to flash a bit of white in her vision and she dropped back down. The light flicked on and she sucked in a sharp intake of air and closed her eyes.

"Oh god." Sam's voice said quietly, then two pairs of footsteps reached her. She opened her eyes and smiled weakly up at Dean's familiar face.

"We gotta stop meeting like this, kid." Dean said gruffly and hovered his hands over her, unsure where to even start. He picked up the pace and rested one hand on her shoulder while using the other to try and peel her shirt from her stomach wound. June whimpered and shrunk away from him touch.

"No-o," She whined, "that hurts." Her words were still slurred, and had she been in any less pain, she's already be asleep.

"Cas." Sam shouted, causing her to flinch and Dean to smack Sam's arm. The younger brother jogged to the doorway at the same time as June watched Cas step through the doorway. He went to move toward her, then faltered and clapped his hands over his ears and ducked his head down, a grimace on his normally straight features.

"Cas?" Dean said quietly and looked at him with blatant confusion. Castiel slowly dropped his hands from his ears and wavered a bit where he stood.

"I-" He stared, then grimaced again. He stumbled forward and ground his teeth while he reached out and pressed his hand rather hard on June's stomach- enough to make her whine and shrink against the bed. His breathing increased and he covered his ear with his free hand.

Warmth quickly overtook June's body for a few seconds, and the pain in her stomach lessened. Cas raised his head and opened his mouth.

"I-" He started again, then vanished mid syllable. Sam and Dean both jumped, though June was already falling asleep. The worst of her wounds were partially healed, and the warmth she had felt was enough to pull her toward sleep. Sam shook his head sharply and looked at Dean, who shook June's shoulder.

 "Hey, stay awake, you gotta tell us what's hurt." He said quickly, and gently pulled her shirt up. The wound wasn't bleeding anymore, as it had started to heal, but the cut on her side was still oozing and needed stitches. Sam quickly jogged out to get a kit, and Dean shook her shoulder again. "Stay awake a little longer. Can you tell me what happened?" He asked in an attempt to keep her focused.

"I don't wanna, not right now." She said and turned her head away. Her mind was still trying to organize all the memories, and all she wanted to do was sleep. She clamped her eyes shut and began ignoring Dean's words, feeling herself start to drift off.

"Just hold on." He tried and looked up at Sam rushed back in.

"Not passing out, just goin' to sleep." She explained, and Dean slowed his movements. Sam stared at her for a few seconds, then glanced at Dean before replying.

"We have to stitch you up, but I think you can sleep, if you can sleep through that." His voice was hesitant, but somewhat sure of his words. As long as she wasn't passing out from blood loss, and only sleeping, then getting rest might do her some good. Castiel flashing out was a complete shock- they had no idea why he would do that, but it almost looked like _he_ didn't; it was as if someone had yanked him out. Sam's words were all June needed to let herself sleep, and she fell asleep surprisingly fast, gratefully giving in to a nightmarish slumber, chock full of the memories, bouncing around in her head like trapped wasps. They were only bits and pieces, therefore they didn't really connect. But it was still a truck load of memories, both good and bad, that were completely random and way too strong to let her get much rest.


	11. Piercing Remembrances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dark and painful memory bubbles to the surface in June's head through the chaos of trying to analyze all the new memories. Leaving more questions than answers, June struggles to deal with this new onslaught of memories- remembering her past wasn't going how she had thought it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter includes the graphic suicide of an original character, as well as the death of the main character. Though since it's a scene from the past, it's obvious she doesn't stay dead.

June's vision flickered, and she could feel the movement of the ambulance beneath her.

"This one's regained consciousness." A voice shouted, a little too near to June's ear. She blinked as a flashlight was shone down into her eyes. She immediately felt an incredible burning in her stomach and tipped her head forward to look at it, but a gloved hand shoved her head back down. "Stay still, you’re in shock." June jerked her head to shake off the hand and propped herself up a tiny bit. Her entire stomach was covered in a slippery coating of blood. Her dizzy mind scrambled back to the previous events that were just out of reach.

"Mom?" The eight-year-old whimpered and turned her head. Her mother was next to her in the small mobile enclosure, though a man was standing between them. Once glance at the straight-line on her mother's monitor shoved away all essences of her own pain. "Mom!" She cried as the man shoved her head back down.

"You need to stay down, you've been shot." June blinked, her mind stretching out and pulling at her memories.

\------------

June sat up sharply, clawing at her stomach which flared with pain. She looked up, blinking in the dim light, slowly calming down at the familiar sight of her cozy room in the bunker. Something moved next to her bed and she flinched away, then flinched again as it caused her stomach to flare up with pain. She locked eyes with the person and instantly calmed down, Sam raising his hands slowly.

"It's okay, it's just me." He said soothingly, and June raised her hands to rub her face. Her stomach was still hurting, and with the images from her dream still lingering behind her eyes, she tossed the blankets off her in alarm, hissing sharply. "Hey, hey, just calm down. What do you remember?" Sam asked, gently wrapping his hand around June's wrist. She ignored him for the time being and tugged her shirt up, revealing a wound in the middle of her stomach that was half healed, and a gash on her side that had been stitched and bandaged. Her eyes lingered on it and she glanced up at Sam. Remembering he had asked her a question, June blinked and suck in a well needed breath.

"That's a loaded question." She stated. Sam cocked his head to the side and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at her with deep concern in his eyes. Her eyes fell to her hands, still clutching her shirt tightly. "I had a- bad dream, is all. I think." She explained then ran her fingers along the white bandage, over the patch of red appearing in the middle.

"How're you feeling?" Sam asked after a few seconds.

"Like I got hit by a bus." June replied, pulling a scoff and a smirk from Sam.

"What even happened? How did you get back here?"

"A- uh, a demon found me, knocked me out."

" _What?_ " Sam stammered, his eyes widening. "Oh my God." He said, running his hand through his hair, "We never should have left you there."

"You didn't know, I should have been more careful." June ran her finger off the bandage and very lightly across the wound on the middle of her stomach, then paused at a dark mark still half covered by her shirt. She curiously rolled it up further, glaring down at the scar under her right ribs- the one she'd seen before, but never knew where it came from. Suddenly memories flooding in once again.

_"Mom? Dad and I picked up your medications on the way home from school." June chirped, heading straight down the wall toward her mother's room- Her mother had been doing her paper work early that morning when June had gotten up for school, so she assumed poking her head in would give her mom a nice break, and shouldn't interrupt her too much. She turned the knob and walked in, catching sight of her mother in her wheel chair by the window. She frowned- her mother hadn't been doing too well lately, not since her father filed that suit for divorce. June didn't really know much about what was going on, but she could definitely help lift her mother's spirits as much as possible. "Hey." She said warmly and smiled then padded toward her mom._

_"Hi Juney-bug." Her mother, Allison, said quietly and gave her a sad smile. "How was school?" She added and turned to watch June with a surprisingly strong look of adoration. Something was off, and it was rubbing June the wrong way a little bit._

_"It was good. I got one hundred percent on my spelling test today, just like you said I would." June replied and sat on the corner of the desk nearby. "How're you holding up?"_

_"Don't worry about me." Allison replied stiffly._

_"I'll always worry about you, Mommy." June said and chuckled quietly, despite the uncomfortable air. The phone rang, causing June to jump to her feet in surprise. She reached over the desk and picked up the landline, "I don't know the number, but it looks important." She stated and handed the phone to her mom. Allison glanced down at the number then closed her eyes, a grimace crawling across her face._

_"It's alright, it's for me anyways. You go put your school things away."_

_"Okay." June replied quietly, and walked from the room. Something was not right- but she couldn't put her finger on it. Her father had only dropped her off, and was heading out to spend some time with his friend Heather._

_Not wanting to think about that at all, the child set her purple backpack on the shelf near the door, then sat down at the dining room table patiently. The second house phone sat in it's dock in front of her, a little orange light lit up on the top to signal that the line was in use. Her eyes locked on the light, not moving for a good twenty minutes until the light dimmed to a barely-lit green. She shoved the chair back, which scooted loudly behind her, and plodded back down the hall to her mother's room. She stood by the door, her hand frozen at the knob as a sound entered her ears. Through the normal sound of drawers being opened, she could hear the soft whimper of her mother's quieted crying. Her eyes widened and she quickly walked in, her mother poking her head up from leaning in her chair to dig through a drawer in her desk. "Mom, are you okay?" She asked quietly and walked silently to the desk. Her mother closed her eyes and brought her hand to her mouth, her shoulder moving a little as she fought to hide her frantic breathes._

_"I'm okay." She said absently and closed the drawer, staring down at her lap._

_"What happened?" June inquired and shifted from foot to foot nervously. It was very abnormal to see her mother cry- she'd actually never seen it before._

_"The jury looks to be leaning toward increasing your father's custody." Allison stated with a cracking and tired voice. June understood the most of that, though she was still very confused, therefore she stepped forward to sit in the chair in front of her mother's desk._

_"It's okay, Mommy." She tried, at a bit of a loss for words. Allison sucked in a breath, letting herself sob quietly._

_"I just, I can't. You don't understand, I'm so sorry."_

_"What don't I understand? Tell me, you always tell me the things I don't know." June's heart rate had increased noticeably from stress, and she herself was on the verge of crying. Her mother opened her eyes, which were gleaming with sadness, and locked them with June's._

_"I'm the only one who can protect you, since you're getting bigger and stronger, no one else understands." Allison was in near hysterics at this point, and ran her hand forcibly through her hair. "I'm the only one who can protect you." She repeated quickly, and her shaking came to a quick stop. Her lower lip trembled and she picked something up from her desk, and set the dark object on the polished surface with her fingers still laced through it. "I'm so sorry, June. But if I'm not there to protect you, they will get to you. And that would be so much worse." June, confused, looked down at the object in her mother's hands- a sleek, small gun. Her eyes widened and she glanced at her mother. "Mom?"_

_"I'm so sorry." Her mother slowly raised the gun, and June got to her feet._

_"Mom, put that down." She cried quietly, tears boiling over and running down her cheeks. She stepped forward and her mother pointed the weapon at her child, who froze in her tracks. "What are you doing?" She whispered, starting to shake as she began to cry. Her mother sobbed as well, and shook her head lightly before pulling the trigger. The impact of the bullet hitting June's stomach sent her back a few steps and to fold over the chair she had previously been sitting on. She pressed her stomach with her hand and looked up in time to see her mother raise the gun to the side of her own head. The pain was blinding, and it took all she had to grab the phone from in the desk when the second shot went off, cracking loudly in her ears. She gasped as she dialed in 911, and pressed the phone to her ear as she dropped to the ground, her legs unable to hold her up. When it picked up she was already talking, though it was stressed and barely loud enough to hear._

_"My mom and I we- we're s-shot. Canart Street." She murmured before dropping the phone and glancing once more at her bloodied center before passing out._

"June?" Sam's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Hey, come on now." He said loudly, and she could feel him gripping her shoulder. She blinked and looked around, instantly feeling the tears that had flooded the majority of her face. She wiped at them futilely and Sam's breathing and countenance calmed down. "You okay?" He asked with still-wide eyes. June rubbed her eyes and sat up a bit more, replaying the memory in her head. It was an actual full memory, not a little snippet like the rest had been, therefore it stood out more than the little pieces of memories she previous had. She simply nodded her head, not sure if her voice would hold out at the moment. "What was that?" He asked, and June bit her lip.

"I-" She started, then snapped her mouth shut. Why would her mom do that- shoot them both? What good could she possibly have out of all of that? How was June alive? Was her mom alive? Her mind froze, locking onto the memory from earlier of Gabriel talking to her- That had been the next thing to happen. June really _did_ die when her mother shot her. She had ended up with Gabriel in that park. Her mind took the chance of even taking a guess- she'd gone to heaven. Then how was she alive? And Gabriel had said she ‘couldn't stay this time either’- that means she'd died before. Her mind was spinning with questions and thoughts, the memories trying to jump in and confuse her even more. In an act of slight panic she brought her hands up to cover her eyes, "Nothing." She said stiffly and sucked in a shaky breath. Sam sighed, he could easily see her beginning to go downhill with emotions, but knew if he pried he might upset her more- he had no idea what was going on in her head, especially if a demon had taken her- her cuts had been inflicted by a blade, and they were precise, not just nicks or lucky shots. June removed her hands from her face and stared down at her stomach.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it? We've all been there, demons are nasty." Sam crossed his arms and turned to face her, then faced the door at the sound of footsteps approaching. Dean walked into the room, about to talk to Sam when he noticed June was awake.

"Well, look at you- doing pretty well, considering." He smirked and walked over, standing with one hand in his pocket at the foot of her bed. June just smiled weakly and slowly rolled her shirt back down over her stomach. Why did her mom say only _she_ could protect June? Protect her from _what_? "You with us?" Dean asked, and June snapped her eyes up to glance at him. He chuckled, "I asked if you needed anything."

"Thanks, no, I'm okay." She replied absently and let her gaze fall back down at her hands, now linked and resting lightly on her stomach. She was at a bit of a standstill with her options at the moment though. All of these memories, and none of them were good. Most of them, she couldn't really tell what was going on, but she knew if she dug around too much, she might come across something she might not want at the moment- like her mother _shooting them both_. They were already coming back slowly to her, like her mind was slowly finding the puzzle pieces and putting everything back together. But in the midst of her internal debate on whether she should talk about anything or sleep, she was pulled back to reality as Castiel appeared in the doorway. Though he wasn't as expected- his clothes had blood on them, and he was relying heavily on the door frame to stay on his feet. Sam and Dean both stood, Dean moving over and helping Castiel to the bed. He sat on the foot, staring at June out of the corner of his eye, almost with a look of fear, but it was hidden deep under a look of guilt.

"June, I apologize." He said roughly, and let his eyes fall. Confused, June glanced at Sam, then back at Castiel.

"For what?"

"I am the reason the demon found you." He replied, sitting stiffly still.

"How could this be your fault? Don't blame yourself, Cas-" June started at the same time as Dean spoke,

"What does that mean?" Dean had snapped.

"I am only telling facts. When I healed you during our first encounter, my powers were amplified by your soul, I was unaware that my strength removed your warding."

"What?" Dean snapped once again, looking quickly between June and Castiel. Sam opened his mouth, but June interrupted him.

"What can you tell me about my soul?" She nearly shouted, staring at Castiel. He lifted his eyes heavily to glance at her, and seemed to hesitate as if debating whether he should speak or not.

"Your soul?" Sam asked with a strong tone of disbelief, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared at June, right before Dean spoke again,

"Where did you even go? You skipped out on us while she was hurt- we're lucky the bit you healed was enough for her to pull though." His voice was loud and had a hint of anger, but Cas easily ignored him to stare at June while he answered her first.

"You do not know about your soul?" He asked, his head tilting to the side.

"No, but apparently everyone else does." She hissed back and frowned.

"That is quite strange; and unfortunate. Your soul is mutated- at least five times the strength it should be." This froze them all in place. June glared ahead of her in thought with wide eyes.

"What?" Sam asked and stared at June.

"Why?" She asked Castiel, staring at him as if he might just disappear again.

"I do not know, I was hoping you knew," He turned to look at Dean, "I was pulled back into heaven when I came into close proximity with June. Somehow a form of protection had triggered on her, alerting angels of her whereabouts for a short time. The angels are quite upset about her. Half want her protected, half want her executed." He turned back to lock eyes with June, "Hell wants her as well. They want a recipe for a soul as strong as June's."

"But I don't know why it's like that, I didn't even know it was." She mumbled, her hands starting to shake. It was all too much, with her soul, the memories, being tortured, her vivid dreams- and she quickly felt like she was going to vomit. June kicked the blankets off her legs and shoved off the bed, bumping into Sam who tried to steady her. She trotted to the bathroom and closed the door behind her, turning the water on and running it over her hands. It was just too much- she needed a break, a bit of peace in this tornado of emotions and new information. After splashing the water on her face a few times, her shaking slowed down a bit, and she sat down on the cold ground, leaning against the side of the bathtub. She closed her eyes and planted her face in her hands, trying to focus her mind on only her breathing. After a few minutes, a voice picked up from the other side.

"June? Are you okay?" Sam's voice entered, muffled by the door. She sat up from being hunched over, but the action tugged at her wounds, and she whimpered quietly. "I'm fine." She said, though her voice betrayed her and cracked like a boy going through puberty.

"Can we come in?" He asked warily. She hesitated, then pulled her face from her hands.

"Yeah." She murmured, not even sure he heard- but he did, and the door opened slowly, revealing Sam and Dean in the doorway. Sam crouched down and bent his head to the side to try and see her downcast face. "You okay?" He asked again, but June shook her head. He stiffened then sat on the ground slowly. "What's going on?" He asked, though it was a bit of a command- she obviously wasn't doing well, and something had to be done, because locking herself in the bathroom is not dealing with whatever was tearing her apart.

"I, uh, remembered. Some- a lot of stuff." June mumbled, then rubbed her eyes. "I just need sleep. You guys can go." She shifted then got to her wobbly feet, and slipped past Sam as he stood up. Sam caught her wrist and pulled her to a stop, turning her to face him.

"What's wrong?" He stated, looking down at her and bending over a bit to be at her height. She shook her head and tugged her hand,

"I- I'm fine, It's okay." She whispered and stared down her feet, feeling her eyes begin to water. She turned to move toward her bed despite his grip on her arm, until Sam let go. She crawled carefully back onto her bed and quickly pulled the blankets up to her chin, putting her back to the boys. All she needed right now was some time to figure out what all was going on. She would work on the memories first- try and get things organized and to remember as much as she could. Then she would worry about her soul thing. She closed her eyes as she heard the three men shuffled stiffly in single file out of her room.


	12. Scarred Minds and Bodies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When June slips into a protective mode of seclusion, the boys draw her out, not at all expecting the cause of her fear, nor the shocking stories she had in store for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains the description of past childhood abuse. Nothing too terrible, though.

Sam yawned and rubbed his eyes, glancing up at the clock that proudly displayed it as a little past midnight. He closed his laptop, which he had been using to attempt to get any information he could on where the demon who had taken June could have been, and stood up slowly. Dean had already gone to bed, and Castiel was nowhere to be seen. But when he padded to the light switch to turn it off, he froze as June walked around the corner of the hallway. She jumped, surprised by his presence, though she didn't relax as much as she normally would have.

"Hey, good to see you walking around." He said with a soft smile and quiet voice. She flashed a smile then looked down, running her hand through her tangled hair. She nodded her head and continued toward the kitchen, which gave Sam a little relief- she'd been cooped up in her room for the past two days ever since she got beamed to the bunker from that demon, and he wasn't sure if she had even eaten. He and Dean still had no clue what all happened there, but June had been adamant about keeping her mouth shut. This was the first time he'd seen her, though he knew she'd been out and about during the night, because whenever he left dishes in the sink to wash in the morning they were already cleaned and put away when he got up. With June nowhere to be seen, of course.

He followed her quietly, leaning in the door way and watching as she got a bottle of water and turned to stare up at the cupboards. Sam curiously followed her gaze to see his mistake- he had put the bowl of fruit on top of the shelf while he was making something to eat earlier. June visibly sighed and set her drink down, then planted her hands on the counter and swung her knee up in a movement to climb on top. At the first sight of her flinch Sam trotted over to her and grabbed her shoulder, "Hey, don't make me re-stitch you." He laughed weakly, relaxing only when she lowered her foot back to the ground. She shied out of his grasp, though her actions looked as if she was fighting to keep from running. Sam glanced at her with sad eyes then reached up and scooted the bowl into his hands, placing it on the counter.

"Thanks." June murmured, then grabbed a banana from the bowl and turned to leave. She made it nearly to the door before Sam called out.

"Wait, June." He crossed the space and comfortingly tapped her shoulder. He did not, however, expect her to nearly fall to the ground as she jumped away from his hand, turning to face him with wide yet slightly absent eyes. He raised his hands, waited a few seconds until she calmed down, and then lowered them to his sides. "What's going on?" He asked, already expecting the smirk that pulled across her face.

"I'm okay, just jumpy, I guess." She said dismissively and turned to leave again.

"You know any of us is always here to talk." Sam called as she passed into the doorway, Sam still standing awkwardly by the small table. June froze in her tracks, her head tipping down as she stared at the floor in thought. She seemed to almost consider it, then caught herself.

"Thanks." And with that she disappeared from his sight.

The next four days were filled with pretty much the same events. She would stay in her room, hiding from the boys' sight until late at night, only then coming out to get rations of food for her next camp-out in her room. Sam and Dean started taking shifts, staying up at night to try and talk to her, but it was useless. She seemed frightened, every noise or fast movement making her jump, and if either of them so much as raised their voice, even in a non-hostile way, she just about turned tail and ran. All that was left was for Sam and Dean to ponder at what could possibly have changed her so much- of course being kidnapped and cut up a demon was pretty bad, but it seemed like something was still getting to her. And she had mentioned the night she got back that she had remembered a lot- if only she'd share more than that, they might be able to figure out a bit more about what was going on with her and the angels, demons, and her soul.

\-----------------

June leaned against her closed door, pinching her lip in her teeth. She knew she should probably go tell one of them, but her fear was still holding her back. Her gash on her side, the one that had been stitched up, had started burning quite a bit. But she'd been a bit busy trying to understand the ten years of memories she missed since there were still quite a few gaps, and didn't have the guts to check it out on her own- much less do anything about it had she found it infected. She heard footsteps on the other side of the door and scampered back to her bed. No- it was one of the boys- she reminded herself. They were safe, they helped her, and they never hurt her. There was no reason to feel fear over them- but she still did. With her side picking up on its burning as if it had heard her thinking of it, she found the courage to walk back to her door and open it quietly. Dean was had just passed her door and looked back at the sound of it opening, a smile pulling across his face.

"She's alive!" He said with mock sarcasm, and laughed quietly. She heard a chair scoot in the main room, assuming Sam had heard Dean's announcement. June smiled softly and idly brushed her hair behind her ears, which was pulled in a bun, though her stubborn bangs still fluttered into her eyes should she choose to look downward.

"Yeah." She replied and looked back up at him, lacing her fingers and shifting on the balls of her feet. Dean's eyebrows raised in curiosity and he looked her over, noting her hand firmly against her side.

"You okay?"

"Probably, just, my cut," she pressed her hand against it through her shirt, "Kind of… doesn't feel right." Dean's smile softened a bit and he glanced over her shoulder as Sam entered the hall as well. June gave the younger brother a small smile as well, then looked back at the ground.

"Well, you get a look at it?" Dean asked, and June shook her head. Dean simply held his hand out to direct her toward the main room, and Sam already started that direction with June following with silent footsteps after him. When she reached the large table she automatically turned around and jumped up to sit on it, though it tugged on her side and she winced. It took a few seconds of them standing there awkwardly until June realized she hadn't moved.

"Oh, sorry." She said and laughed lightly, rolling her white tank top up to the bottom of her ribs. Sam sighed,

"You haven't changed the bandage, have you?" He asked and chuckled weakly. June's eyes widened and she looked down, her cheeks flushing a bit,

"No, I, I'm sorry." She panicked quietly. Sam stood back up and raised his eyebrow,

"It's okay, really." He said slowly, then glanced at Dean who gave him a confused glance then shook his head lightly. Sam turned back and glanced at June before gingerly removing her bandage from her side. June averted her eyes, but found herself unable to keep them away after Sam sighed and his shoulders dropped.

"Aw man Kid, that looks infected." Dean said and crinkled his nose, "That looks like it'd hurt like heck, why didn't you come sooner?" June bit her lip and looked down, and Dean caught himself. "It's okay, you just shouldn't be in pain."

"I'm sorry-"

"You didn't do anything wrong, you don't need to keep apologizing." Sam interrupted her, pulling a chair around and sitting backwards on it to rest his arms on the backrest. "You need to tell us what's going on." He sighed and watched her, Dean pulling a chair up as well. June pulled her eyes up to lock eyes with Sam, but quickly let them fall. The chairs had blocked her from jumping down, though she wasn't sure if that was on purpose or not, and she weighed her choices- which were slim.

"I remembered. A lot of things." Dean's eyebrows raised and he smiled curiously,

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"I thought it would be." She replied, then began trying to roll down her shirt.

"Hey, here, just hang on." Sam said and quickly got up, disappearing around the corner to get the medical supplies. Dean sighed.

"Alright. You need to spill the beans." He stated and watched her intently with a straight face.

"I'm just, overwhelmed, or something."

"Or something?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Well, none of the things I remembered where what you'd call... good," June started, then looked up gratefully as Sam returned, but she ground her teeth at the sight of the rubbing alcohol tucked under his arm. She turned her head away, and Dean spoke up to recall her attention.

"Okay, so what did you remember?" June looked at Dean while he spoke, but her attention was fully locked on Sam's quiet movements beside her.

"Uh, well. When I was seven, I was in that car crash. It put my mom into a wheel chair. She got depressed, and something happened, she kept saying she was the only one who could protect me. That she was the only one who understood, and she sort of, well, shot me. In the stomach. And herself, in the head." Sam hand froze next to her with wide eyes, and she took a chance at glancing at him. It took a second for him to wipe the shock off his face and recollect his mind. He blinked and poured some of the disinfectant on a rag, then turned to June who scooted backwards on the table to cross her legs and turn so Sam didn't have to reach around her. She flinched away from his touch and Sam paused at the sheer fear on her face. He frowned at her,

"We have to clean it. Come on, it's not that bad." He said softly and she submitted. She sucked in a sharp breath as he pressed the cloth against her side, biting the inside of her lip.

"I died, that night, and went to heaven. Met an angel who said I'd been there before, and he sent me back." She continued, flinching every time Sam adjusted the burning rag. "After t-that, I went to live with my Dad and his fiancé, Heather." She instantly felt her mind crawling back toward those memories with her, and not wanting at all to go back down that dark road, she clamped her mouth shut. Dean's eyebrows furrowed, noticing her hesitation, but was busy processing this new information. He gave an amused face,

"You die like a Winchester," He said, then laughed and leaned back in his chair, "Way too often." Sam removed the rag, now bloody, and sighed. His hand brushed her arm and he paused, setting down the rag and pressing the back of his hand against her forearm. His face pulled straight and he raised his hand to press it against June's head, but he startled her and she ducked with wide eyes. She caught Dean giving Sam a glance, and let Sam touch her forehead lightly.

"You're burning up." He said quietly and stood up, digging through the first aid kit next to June on the table. He produced a thermometer, turned it on and tapped it a few times to make sure it was working, then smirked and handed it to her. "Should work. It's from our own kit, not the ones already here, so it seems to still have batteries left." June took it gingerly and put it under her tongue, then looked at Dean while he stared to talk.

"Your mom _shot you_?" He grimaced and shook his head, "Not winning the parent-of-the-year award." He mumbled then bit his tongue at June's wide eyes. "No, I- I mean," He stammered and sighed, glaring at the floor. "Too soon." He murmured and tipped his head back up. "If it helps at all, our mom's dead too. And both of us have died too many times to count." He said, and Sam nodded from the corner of June's eye. Now that Sam had mentioned it, she was definitely feeling hot, as well as rather dizzy, but the dizziness could be from not eating much recently. She'd been a little more worried about staying sane than maintaining a healthy diet. She blinked a few times then jumped lightly when the thermometer beeped, actually dropping it.

"Sorry!" She ducked and caught it, then handed it to Sam. He hissed and grimaced, looking from June to Dean, and back at the small device in his calloused hands.

"One O' four." He announced and set it down. Dean clapped his hands, regretting it visibly when June flinched, and stood up.

"Okay. Either you eat some ice, or we put you in a bathtub of it." He declared and looked toward June. June smiled weakly and crossed her arms,

"Eat." She replied with a soft smile. She flinched yet again as Sam placed a clean bandage on her wound, and Dean scoffed at her actions.

"You look like a rabbit on caffeine, what's got you so froggy?" He stated, though Sam gave him a harsh glare. June shrugged her shoulders and stared at her hands, which were folded together on her lap. When Sam stepped back she quickly dropped down to the floor and kept her eyes on her feet. Sam slipped away into the kitchen and she followed, Dean behind her. When a hand weighed down on her shoulder she dropped like a rock, falling to her rear on the ground to look up at Dean, who had a suspicious look on his face. He had meant to see her reaction to touching her shoulder after noticing how flinch-y she had been. "Alright, come on." He said gruffly and helped her back up, leading her to the table where she sat down silently. A glance up at Sam let her know he had been watching, because he was still holding the ice cube tray, not paying attention to the drips falling to the floor. "Obviously, you're not just sick. You're scared- trust me, I've seen that look one too many times. You gotta tell us what's going on." He stared at her, and she slunk lower into her chair. Sam appeared next to her and set a cup of ice cubes next to her, condensation already dripping down onto the table. When she lifted her eyes Dean hadn't moved a single muscle and she had to fight to keep her eyes up.

She'd been fighting to keep those memories down ever since she first got a glimpse of them. She wanted nothing to do with all of that, and would much rather just pretend it didn't happen, but it seemed like Dean wasn't going to let go any time soon.

"My mom and dad were split up. I don't remember why yet. But when she got hurt, he moved back in. And it was good, for a while, until my dad filed for divorce- then my Mom snapped and shot us both when I was seven. When she died, my Dad of course gained full custody, and I moved in with him and his, I guess girlfriend, Heather. She was okay at first, I know she did something bad in the past, that she was in jail for it, but I can't remember why yet. I guess whatever it was, it couldn't have been that bad, right?" She laughed weakly, and put an ice cube in her mouth.

"Okay," Dean said, processing, "But none of that really seems too psychologically scarring, I think, and you sound like there's more." He crossed his arms and rested them on the table. June scoffed and crunched the ice cube up and glanced at Sam when he sat down next to her at the table.

"Yeah, I know." June replied. "Thing were alright, until I turned nine. Apparently I outstayed my welcome from Heather, and she sort of decided words _can_ hurt you. She took every opportunity she could to sort of poke at my pride, pop my happy bubbles, tell me... just terrible things. It wasn't fun, but I could stand it- I even told her I forgave her every time she got particularly nasty- I think she just wasn't thinking straight." June said, adding the last part with a soft smile. Sam sat up straight and ran a hand through his rather long hair.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know why she would do that to you." He stated, then Dean added in his own,

"Why would you forgive her for that crap?" He said with his eyes narrowed. June laughed weakly and spun the ice in the cup idly.

"It's easier for me to forgive, than to harbor hate- I guess I'm just hard-wired like that." She shrugged, then paused, "Maybe I somehow knew subconsciously it was going to get worse, and that later things would be harder to forgive." Her ominous words put looks of confusion on both of the boys.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked lowly, and Sam's eyes narrowed as well.

"I guess she noticed I was still faring pretty well, and since my Dad hadn't really noticed. He was working almost twenty-four hours a day because of the court bills, so she figured she would turn it up a notch." She shrugged her shoulder in an attempt to soothe her now quickly beating heart. She really began to notice her temperature, therefore she put a few more ice cubes in her mouth. Sam looked down at the table in thought until she swallowed the ice, then looked up at her with an odd look in his eyes- fear, maybe? Close, but not exactly. "It started with little things, bumping into me pretty hard in the hallway, knocking over my cup at dinner, stepping on my feet, elbowing me when she stretched out her arms. Then once school ended for that year, I guess she got bored with all of her and I's free time." She sucked in a shaky breath. "An elbow to the ribs because I spilled something, tripping me on the stairs. Turning off lights on me. Yelling- a lot of yelling," Her face contorted and she glared down at the table. When she peeked up at the boys she caught a look of anger start to rise in Dean, and Sam had stiffened by her side. Should she really be telling them all this? They didn't seem too happy about it- and now that she was talking about it, she knew that some people didn't deal with anger well. She closed her eyes and continued anyways.

"It got really bad the last month I was there. She uh, hit me, quite a bit-"

"She _hit you?_ " Sam said with an astounded tone and Dean stood up quickly from the table, pacing a few steps with his hand resting on his chin. June scooted away from him and attempted to stand up. He noticed, slowly sitting back down with an apologetic look pouring over his anger. She hesitated, but sat back down quietly.

"She covered up any bruises with her make-up. One night when I was down the hall from my bedroom, she turned the light off on me and I crashed into the table in the hall, knocked a flower vase over and it broke a bit. When she found me she was furious," Her voice caught in her throat and she decided not to delve into it. "My Dad got home early because it had started snowing and the roads would have been dangerous during his normal commute. He kicked out Heather, and brought me to the hospital."

"The hos-" Dean started loudly then shut up and got up, leaving the kitchen. He was visibly furious, and seemed to leave to avoid scaring June. She sat with wide eyes, and, not daring to look at Sam, poured some more ice in her mouth despite that it wasn't really making a difference. He had been deathly silent beside her, not really even moving much. When she became curious enough to look at him, he was staring down at the table in thought. He scooted his chair back to stand up and shifted his jaw, avoiding looking at June. He was obviously upset, and it was getting to June a little more than she'd like. She got up as well and silently put the cup in the sink, the moved to escape back to the safety of her room.

"June, wait." Sam said behind her, but she only ducked her head and slipped quickly through the door. "June." He repeated and jogged forward, catching her wrist. She ducked down quickly and looked up at him with wide eyes, and he looked to be deciding if he should let go or not. Feeling overwhelmed, June felt tears well up in her eyes and tugged weakly at her hand, dropping her eyes to the ground.

"Sam, I'm fine-" She stated as she turned away from Sam. He gently turned her back around to face him, "S-" She barely got out before Sam pulled her against his chest in a hug. She tensed up, then let go and pressed her head against Sam. Her fear trickled away for a moment, and she felt Sam's chin rest on the top of her head. It lasted a few seconds before June stepped back, though as she turned she spoke.

"Thank you." She mumbled then took to standing awkwardly in place.

Dean was in the room, sitting at the table with his hands linked on top of it.

"Heather was wrong, to do all that." Dean said, and looked up to lock eyes with June, "You don't have to be scared; we would never hurt you." He added smiled up at her lightly. He seemed to have calmed down.  June nodded and ran her hand through her hair.

"I-I know. It's just that getting a new memory, it feels like it just happened yesterday, no matter how far back in my life it actually happened- I was almost ten by the time by dad found out. Yet, now everything makes me think I'm going to get hit or yelled at." She said, her voice cracking toward the end and crossed her arms across her chest tightly.

A slight wave of dizziness got to her head and she masked it by shifting her weight to the other foot, but instead her leg gave out and she tumbled to her knees. Sam had only been a step behind her and caught her by the elbow, keeping her from falling too hard. He froze and looked down at his hand where he was holding her elbow. He ground his teeth and helped her up.

"Come on, we've gotta get your fever down." He said and tugged June along beside him. Dean had stood up from his chair, and when they got to the door to June's room, she dug her ankles into the floor.

"Wait, is an ice bath okay for open wounds?" Dean nearly walked into her, then cursed lightly at her question. Sam sighed,

"Not on infections." Sam then hesitated before bringing June to her bed. She sat on the side, though when she swayed to the side a bit Dean strode over and gently pushed her enough to convince her to lay down by knocking her over. She watched as Sam went into the bathroom and returned with a soaking wet washcloth. She scrunched up her nose, "But I already feel cold." She said quietly- which was true, and only made Sam smile apologetically at her.

"That means your fever is worse." He said and handed it to Dean. She simply frowned with a hint of a pout- brought on by a bit of lightheaded-ness- and Dean rolled his eyes before setting the cloth over her face. She flinched and tugged it from in front of her eyes, which were open pretty wide from the difference of temperatures on her head. Sam crossed his arms and leaned against the side of the bed, while Dean sat on the foot. "Is there anything else you remember?" He added and watched as she rubbed cold drops from running into her eyes.

"I still don't know what Heather had against me, or why I remember my dad being surprised that I forgave her." June mumbled and sat up. Sam stood up as well and gave her a look that told her she should probably stay where she was. "Can you turn the light off?" She said in a whisper and dropped her gaze. Dean leaned forward and clicked it off, and June was pretty sure she saw his shoulder move a little from light laughter. She felt pretty childish with them both following her around, but if she had her way, she wouldn't have gone out of her room in the first place. Which would have only made things worse, she now realized. "Um," She started, then absently ran her finger over the bandages on her side through her shirt, considering if she wanted to bring up the other thing she knew, for it wasn't a good memory either. "I knew Adam- the demon- before the day at the hospital." She said quietly, then looked up to get their reactions. Sam looked up with wide eyes.

"What do you mean?" He asked and leaned against the wall once again.

"Well, I haven't really remembered _why_ he had me, I'm sure it's important because all the important things, I can't seem to remember..." She said, then realized she was rambling and shook her head, which made the cloth fall. She flipped it over since it was already hot on that side and replaced it on her forehead, "But he had me before- same situation. Different vessel, but it was him. He said his name was Adam. All I really remember about that was him carving me up, though. He had me for a lot longer that time." She rubbed her forehead and re-situated the damp and less-cold washcloth.

"What? When was that?" Dean asked and turned to face her with his eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed.

"I was," She paused then propped herself up, "I was nearly ten." She looked around the room as if it would give her the answers she searched for in her mind- something right after that had to have been why she lost her memory- she just couldn't remember. And since she was still alive, she must have gotten free from the demon somehow. It felt like it was there, but she just couldn't reach it, like a cup _just_ out of reach on the top shelf when she was younger. She lifted her hand absently to inspect it in thought, but set it down when she noticed it shaking. Sam eyed her hand, then watched her as she yawned.

"So let me get this straight- first, you get in a car crash. Then a year later, your mom shoots you both. The next two years you are abused both mentally and physically, only to get tortured by a demon as a ten year old. Now, your house catches on fire, angels try to kill you, you get tortured by the same demon, and now you have a fever of what now, one hundred and five, six by now?" Dean said, counting off the events on his fingers in the dark. The light from the bathroom still trickled out, making the room dark, but still light enough to see everyone pretty clearly. June gave him a sarcastically fake grin and let her head fall back. "You are long overdue for some good luck." He huffed and got up, clapping his hands together. "I'm going to go on a food run and get meds for miss fever over there." He announced, "Either of you need something?" He asked and backed toward the doorway. Sam paused then stood,

"I'll go with." He said and turned to glance at June. He sighed and pulled the washcloth from her head and brought it back into the bathroom, talking over the sound of running water, "You should try and get some sleep, it'll help your body fight it off faster. We'll come back with medicine and food." He walked back out and put it back on her head, and June nodded lightly. She had all intentions of sleeping as soon as she could- she was starting to feel hot again, and was sick of the changing temperatures and burning side. The two walked out and she rubbed her eyes, but her mind had a few things it wanted to sort out first. How _did_ she get away from the demon that first time? Her first instinct in her most recent capture was to call Gabriel- who she now knew as the angel she saw after her mom shot her.

After a few seconds of debating she sat up in her bed. June dropped her legs over the side and padded on wobbly legs to the light switch. She flicked it on and blinked from the change of light levels, then sat on the edge of her bed. Her head felt pretty hot, and she pressed her hand against it idly, then ran her hand through her hair. Her fingers brushed against the feather that was tucked into her hair by her ear, and she pulled her hair down then padded to the bathroom and leaned on the counter to look at the feather. June still didn't have any idea where it came from, but she did remember one thing- a tiny flicker of it in her head, like she remembered the feather during her first encounter with Adam. Her mind whirred as she tried to pick at the memory, but all she got was a lot of fear and cuts from his knife, so she backed off. Instead, she walked back out to her bed and crawled up to sit on her pillows with her legs crossed. She fiddled with the golden feather and looked out over her room. She found herself replaying her more recent meeting with Adam- specifically her escape. She'd called out the angel's name, Gabriel, and then there was the wind, light, then she was back in the bunker. Had the angel really helped her? When the first angel she summoned tried to _kill_ her? Of course, her memory with Gabriel didn't contain any hostility.

She bit her lip and glanced at the clock through the opened bathroom door- the boys had been gone for almost twenty minutes now, and wouldn't be back for a little while. Weighing the chances, she curled the feather around her finger once more then dropped her hands to her lap.

"Gabriel?" She asked into the empty room. She felt silly talking to no one, hoping for a reply when no one was there to listen. She scoffed lightly at herself and brushed over the feather again, "Gabri-" She started when someone appeared out of nowhere at the foot of her bed with their back to her. She instantly recognized the coat and tilted her head to the side, releasing the feather. "Cas?" She stated in confusion, and he turned to face her with a straight yet slightly curious visage.


	13. Angelic Aquintences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After some advice from Castiel, under-the-weather June finds herself in the presence of another heavenly old friend.

"You should not be calling angels to your side." Castiel stated and stared at her like he always stared at people- though he stared at Dean the most.

"I- I'm sorry. I was, uh, I just wanted to see if it worked." She stammered and felt her face flush. Castiel sighed and let his blue eyes fall.

"It is alright. But somehow you amplified your single prayer, and quite a few angels heard it, including myself." He turned to face the door contently once again, "Even saying the one word, you could have managed to bring undesirable hosts into your presence."

"I didn't mean to- I didn't know."

"Now you do. You should really be more careful. We do not know why your soul has been so engorged, but there are others besides the Winchesters who would be interested in figuring it out, and they will be unmerciful." June dropped her eyes to her lap, fiddling with the bottom seam of her shirt.

"Do you know Gabriel?" She asked quietly, and tilted her head to the side as she watched Castiel. He glanced over his shoulder with slightly raised eyebrows.

"Yes. He was an archangel, and a friend of mine."

"Was?" June blurted out with a frown.

"He has not been seen for quite some time, neither on Earth nor Heaven." He sighed and continued to stare at the wall, though she could tell he was watching her out of the corner of his eyes.

"He has to be around somewhere, he got me away from the demon." She explained and crossed her arms. Cas twisted his head quickly to look at her with a very confused face, then dropped his eyes down toward the floor.

"You are certain it was him?"

"I-" June started, then bit her tongue. How did she _really_ know? She called him specifically, but just now even Cas heard her- it could have been anyone that helped her. "I don't know for sure." She mumbled. Castiel seemed to relax, and sat on the foot of her bed. "I would heal you, but it would alert other angels of your whereabouts because something about you right now is amplifying you. You need to stay away from them, some believe you shouldn't exist." He glanced at June and she felt he was about to leave, so she raised her hand,

"Wait, why does everyone hate me if I have too much soul? Wouldn't extra soul be a _good_ thing?"

"Souls are very powerful. Heaven fears you because they do not understand, and because the power of your soul could be used for evil. I assume Hell wants you to find out why your soul is so robust, to make more like yours." After he stopped talking, June took a few seconds to analyze what he had explained, and when she looked up he was already gone. She smiled lightly and rubbed her forehead, then stretched her legs out in front of her. Maybe there would be a way to make her soul normal again? But to do that, they'd have to know why it happened in the first place- and she figured it wouldn't be as simple as a birth defect. Her head swam a little bit and she looked around before getting up to head out for a drink of water. She knew she should probably be resting, but getting water isn't that hard.

It felt odd to be in the bunker all alone, because of its grand size and how silent it was there, so she walked slowly and absorbed the serenity in the place. Once she made it to the kitchen she smiled lightly- the tile floor felt nice and cool on the bottom of her feet. She acquired a glass and filled it halfway- fearing that if she filled it more, she would spill it on accident from her weak grasp. She drank some by the sink then set it on the counter, turning around to lean against it when she froze- a man was sitting casually at the table with his legs propped up on top. Her mind kicked into action and she looked him over. He looked familiar, like she knew him- then it clicked.

"Gabriel?" She asked with a shocked tone. His small smile stretched into a wide grin and he wiggled his eyebrows quickly.

"In the flesh." He said and crossed his arms across his chest. It took a few seconds for June's tired mind to decide what to do, and she settled with being friendly. He had, of course, helped her at least one of the times she died, and he hadn't tried to kill her yet- though she always did trust a little too easily. "You called?" He asked and raised his eyebrow, then huffed and moved his feet off the table to look at her. She picked her glass back up and pulled a chair from the table. She sat on it with her legs pulled up and crisscrossed, her wide eyes staring him down like he was going to disappear if she looked away.

"Yeah, I guess I did." She replied with a weak laugh. "I wanted to make sure you were real- and then Cas said you hadn't been seen." Her voice faded as she finished speaking and she smiled curiously. She felt comfortable around him, like he would protect her from anything and everything; and being an angel would make that easy for him.

"Yeah," He said with a happy sigh, "Sorta, dropped off the radar to keep myself apart from all the happenings up there in God-Land. Easier down here- I get to do whatever I want." He said and twirled his hand, a cup of what June assumed to be either Sprite or carbonated water appearing in his hand. He winked and drank some, then smacked his lips and set it down. Gabriel's eyes pulled up to looked at her, his grin softening. "You've grown; haven't seen you in a while. Though, I guess that's a good thing, right?" He said and chuckled, and June scoffed.

"I- I guess. How many times have I seen you?" She countered and raised her eyebrows- Gabriel's in turn furrowed, and he turned his head slightly.

"Ah. I assumed since you knew about me, you would know the rest." He said, his voice a bit quieter. June shook her head,

"Bits and pieces. Kind of wish I didn't remember most of it."

"I blocked it all for a reason, but you had to go and dig." He said and shrugged. He had an overall happy feeling about him, joking, optimistic- it was nice.

"That's alright. I'll get used to it, I guess I'm glad I... figured it out; wait, _you_ blocked my memory?" Her sentence changed halfway through as she noticed his contribution toward her memory loss.

"Yep." He chirped and finished his drink, "Figured you would have been better off without all those crappy things. But you seem alright anyways." He seemed to pause as he looked her over, "For the most part- you got some nasty injuries; mind telling me who I'm going to kill because of it?" He said, managing to sound happy while being protective.

"You don't have to kill anyone, I'll be alright." June said and shook her head, which bore a warm smile on her mouth. Though she was starting to feel hot again and rubbed her forehead, her smile faltering.

"Yeah, because you look one-hundred percent- more like a hundred degrees." He breathed sarcastically and then sighed. "How'd you ditch my warding?" He added and frowned lightly in confusion.

"Castiel said he when he healed me after an angel tried to kill me, that-"

"Which angel?" Gabriel interrupted and he sat up a bit straighter. His voice had instantly switched into almost a snarl from anger. June blinked a few times in surprise and raised her hands defensively,

"I-I don't know, he's dead anyways. I was more focused on not dying." She said and laughed as he seemed to settle back down, "Anyways, Cas said when he healed me, my soul sort of jump-started him, and he managed to erase the warding." Gabriel paused as he processed this, then nodded his head slowly.

"Makes sense," He then glared at her for a few seconds, causing June to give him a curious look. "Since your soul's stronger than when you were a child. Which I didn't expect, since it was already so strong then. You're buff, kid." He said then chuckled and tapped the rim of the cup, which vanished.

"So you don't know why it's like that though?" June asked with a sad hint to her voice.

"Nope. Sorry Bud." He froze in his spot then got to his feet with a huff. "The boys are back. Now, I've poked and prodded them a bit in the past, and at the moment, they _sorta_ think I'm dead. You'd do me a world of favors if you'd keep it that way." Gabriel explained while he straightened his jacket with a smirk. June nodded quickly.

"Is there anything else you can tell me?" June spat out last minute as she felt her opportunity to learn more diminishing a little too quickly for her liking. He paused, his face contorting in thought, then strode over to her with one hand in his pocket.

"Can't tell you anything, but I can give you something- you want your warding back?" His words froze June's mind, and once she grasped the concept that she would be better protected with it, she nodded her head slowly. He nodded as well, then smiled down at her kindly. He stretched his hand out and pressed two fingers against her collarbone, and she got a feeling of warm and energy inside her that seemed to jump-start her as well as burn a little bit. She gasped and flinched, then settled back into her chair as he removed his fingers. Her breathing and heart rate were both increased a fair amount, and she also noticed that her heat had vanished. She pressed her hand against her forehead, which felt normal, then stared at him for a few seconds. Rolling her shirt up, she gently removed the bandage, finding herself healed. She jerked her eyes back up at the archangel, and he simply grinned, winked, and vanished.

She stayed at the table, absorbing what had just happened, until she heard the door to the bunker open with loud metallic groans and squeaks. Crap- what was she going to tell them? That she just miraculously healed? Gabriel wanted to remain a secret for the time being, which she would respect, but he didn't leave her with a lot of choices with explanations. She looked around, then snapped her eyes shut.

"Castiel, I know you can hear me, and I know I'm not supposed to pray, but I need you to lie and say you healed me, if the boys ask." She whispered, then peeked out one eye. "He better have heard that, and play along." She muttered then snapped her mouth shut as her heard the brothers clanking down the metal stairs. Dean appeared first in the doorway to the kitchen and froze in spot, staring at her with wide eyes. He realized it was her then snorted and walked past, setting two bags on the counter and then turned to lean casually against it. Sam then walked in as well, and paused the same exact way Dean had, though he reacted a little different. He sighed and gave her a knowing look.

"If you were going to stay up, I could have stayed behind." He said and dug through the single bag in his hands, probably searching for the medicine.

"Didn't need to sleep- Cas, actually came back. He felt bad that he got jerked away, and healed me up." June stated, and patted her side with her shirt now rolled down. Sam blinked, then nodded his head.

"Huh. Well, okay then." He said and smiled, though he still looked a little confused. He pulled his hand from the bag and tossed the bottle of pills to her anyways, "Just in case." He said, at the same time as June barely caught it, having to nearly fall out of her chair to keep it in her grasp. She laughed and set it on the table, her smile staying plastered on her face. Sam watched her and his smile grew as well, and she heard Dean laugh scoff from behind her.

"We'll work on that." Dean commented, partially joking, and began putting a few perishables away in the fridge. Sam set his bag on the counter as well then plodded from the kitchen toward the library. Finding herself being rather useless at the moment, she got to her feet and wandered from the kitchen as well, a yawn forcing its way out of her mouth. It was only seven, but she was already exhausted- it had been an interesting day. Though, all her days were rather interesting recently. She toyed with the idea of staying up, but figured she deserved a little rest, considering she only minutes ago had a pretty dangerous fever. Sam had been watching her and scoffed lightly,

"You should sleep. I'm sure Dean will head off soon enough too." She heard Dean shout half-sarcastically something muffled about beauty sleep and laughed.

"Already planning on it." June replied and rubbed her eyes. Sam turned away back toward the table and she continued down the hall and into her bedroom. The light in both her room and the bathroom were both still shining bright, so she wandered in and pulled her hair back into a bun. Flicking the lights off behind her she crawled back onto her bed. Her mind worked over the idea that she had actually met Gabriel- the angel who saved her life multiple times- until her eyes began to get heavy. Sleep came fast, but her dreams felt a little different than normal.


	14. Scrutinizing Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Persistently assailed by nightmares, a few odd ones are yanked to the surface, eliciting Castiel's addition into the mayhem. An inspection of her soul brings forth a lot more questions than answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small Trigger Warning: The first paragraph contains a short spurt of past physical abuse directed toward the main character.

"No, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" June shouted, crossing her arms and yanking them defensively in front of her face from her fetal position on the floor.

"You broke that on purpose, you klutz." Heather snapped and retrieved the pieces from the floor, then noticed the water seeping into the floor. She fumed, huffed, and kicked June's side as she walked by.

"I didn't mean to, I'm sorry." June blubbered and scooted so her back was pressed firmly against the wall. Heather only groaned and shook the glass in her hands,

"Look at what you did; you don't belong here!" She screeched and tossed one glass shard on the ground where it shattered. June flinched and curled up smaller.

"I'm sor-"

\-----------

Suddenly her shoulder was being shook and she shot up in her bed, tugging her arms over her head and cracking her head on the headboard as she scooted backwards. Her face was wet and it was dark enough that she at first couldn't tell where she was.

"Hey, hey!" Sam's familiar voice reached her ears. She dropped her hands and saw him standing inches from her, still shaking her shoulder. She flinched away and he leaned over, turning on the lamp next to her bed. Her breathing was way faster than it should be, and her heart double that, but she came to the quick realization of where she was. Sam jumped back to the bed and leaned toward her with a panicked expression taking over his face. She dropped her head between her knees and sucked in a few well needed breaths. "What was that?" He asked breathlessly, sitting on the bed next to her, watching her as if she was going to break into pieces, "You were shouting, I heard it from my room." He shook his head and his words trailed off.

"It's was a dream, I'm okay. I don't normally react that much though, I'm sorry." She said breathlessly with a timid voice.

"You don't need to apologize, you're lucky my room is closer, Dean would have come in with a rifle." He chuckled softly, seeming to pick his words carefully, still watching her. She shook her head,

"I'm okay." She repeated and rubbed her eyes.

"You were saying you were sorry, just over and over." He stated and dipped his eyebrows into a rather sad, puppy-dog visage. June just dropped her eyes and pulled herself out of the fetal position, stretching her sleep-stiff legs out in front of her. She wiped some of the tears off her cheeks sheepishly and scooted back to sit on top of her pillows. "Do you… wanna, I don't know, talk about it?" He asked with a rather unsure tone, like he wasn't quite sure how to handle that kind of situation. June scoffed morosely,

"Just pieces of the past coming back to bite me." She explained and began straightening out her blankets which she had thrashed when she startled awake. Sam flashed a sad smile and got back up after a few seconds.

"Try to get some more sleep, if you can- you've only been asleep for a few hours." He said and walked to the door, stopping once more to glance at her with a worried expression on his face. June dipped her head in a nod and Sam swung her door closed behind him, but left it open just a crack- just in case _she_ cracked.

The next night, she woke herself up from another memory of her past- this time her mother when she shot them both. She woke up right as she was shot, and nearly tore her shirt to shreds to check her stomach before she even realized it was a dream. Apparently she hadn't been shouting, because neither of the boys came in with guns and feeble attempts at trying to deal with the situation.

It became a pattern- there was a fourth of a chance that she'd be woken from Sam, a fourth woken by Dean, another fourth she would wake up on her own, and the other fourth was that she would suffer through the drug-out nightmare until morning. It became enough that it was visibly taking a toll on her health. Black bags sat proudly under her eyes, she was shaky, and she was surprised she even had tears left over because of how often she'd wake up crying. Most of the dreams were snippets, little pieces broken off the actual memory- always different pieces though.

Now, sitting at the table in the library with a cup of coffee- which she didn’t quite care for, and drank only for the caffeine- she found her eyes growing heavy. A glance at the clock told her it was two in the morning, and her body responded with a yawn and for her to drop the pencil she had been holding. She blinked and picked it up off the floor, and when she sat up Sam was standing in the doorway. She was startled by him and dropped it again.

"Stupid bugger." She grumbled and kicked it further under the table, "Be free if you want it that bad." She sarcastically said to the pencil. Sam raised his eyebrows and walked over with his arms crossed.

"So we're at the level where we start talking to inanimate objects now, huh?" He said and pulled a chair around to sit beside her. She rolled her eyes and traced her finger on the rim of her mug, which was still half full of the way-too-bitter, dark liquid. "You really do need to sleep eventually, trust me, sleep deprivation _is_ torture." He rubbed his own eyes and checked the clock as well. "You been staying up like this every night?"

"Yeah. It's not too bad, I'm still getting a little sleep- I turn in at four." Sam paused and his eyebrows dropped as his eyes squinted,

"And you get up at six- don't you think that's a little unhealthy?"

"Don't talk unhealthy to me until you abstain from alcohol." She said sarcastically and pointed her finger at him with a soft smile.

"Come on, you're loony. You gotta go to sleep." He said and stood up, ushering her with his hands. She got up without a fight, walking back toward her room with the mug in hand and Sam at her heels. It didn't take long for her exhausted body to escape into sleep, but it felt different this time- almost deeper, in a way.

She saw a flash of a back road that crossed through a small patch of trees. Then another flash of a stack of papers and a black pen. Another flash, something metallic instantly ramming into her vision- but it wasn't her. She was there mentally, as if she was watching through someone else's eyes. Then excruciating pain on her entire chest like she'd be hit by a bus.

She jerked up in her bed at the same time as Dean kicked her door open with what looked like a broom and flicked the lights on. Her throat hurt, telling her she'd been screaming, but all she could focus on was the intense pain on her chest that was taking its sweet time fading away. Seeing her in a form of distress, Dean dropped the broom- which had just happened to be the first thing he ran into on the way to her room- and walked quickly to her side on the bed.

"You okay?" He asked and ducked his head to try and make eye contact. She in turn was practically hyperventilating and doubled over, still shaking quite a bit. Sam shuffled in, wobbly from sleep, and Dean glanced at him.

"June?" Sam asked and stared at her with wide eyes. When she didn't respond Dean placed his hand on her shoulder, carefully trying to get her to uncurl.

"Ow, ow, ow." She mumbled through her frantic breathes. The boys immediately woke up completely and Dean released her shoulder.

"Are you hurt?" He asked loudly.

"I don't know, I don't think so." She said breathlessly and slowed her breathing as the pain started to fade away. She very timidly unfolded herself, keeping her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection with her eyes squeezed shut.

"You don't know?" Dean replied and looked her over.

"I'm okay. That was just, weird." She replied, though she seemed in a sort of daze. Why would a dream cause so much pain, so fast and long lasting? Why did that dream feel so real? She pried her eyes open and rested her head against the head board, Sam and Dean relaxing from their stiff poses.

"What happened?" Sam questioned, still completely confused.

"She started screamin', different than before."

"Just a nightmare, again." June reassured and released her hold on her chest. "It felt off, and it hurt like heck." Sam and Dean frowned in sync, and Dean glanced at Sam. The pain was mostly gone from her chest, so her heaving chest felt as if a weight had been lifted off of her. "I'm sorry, you guys should go back to sleep," she stated and pulled her eyes up to look at them for the first time. They both shifted in their spots before Dean spoke up.

"I'll stay, you go back, Sam." Sam hesitated, glanced between her and Dean, and slowly walked back out, already showing signs of his sleepiness returning.

"Dean, there's no need for you to do that, go back to bed." She murmured and rubbed her own eyes. She stretched back out on her bed from her balled-up position and blinked a few times as her eyes started to feel heavy again. The clock in the bathroom told her she'd only been asleep for an hour. Dean just shrugged and plopped down in the chair in the corner of the room that had taken up housing there from the many times now that the boys had come in to wake June from her nightmares.

"Nah, I'm good here. Go back to sleep." He said and gave her a soft smile as he kicked back in the chair with his feet propped up on the corner of her bed. She sighed, knowing Dean's obstinate behavior well, and laid back down on her side. There wasn't really much information in the dream- just the images of the papers and pen, the road, and something shiny and red that took up the entirety of her vision- so she had trouble making much sense of it. So far, none of it at all felt like her regular dreams- it felt too real, like a memory- but nothing she knew about related to any of that. She's always lived in a more urban area, she never did paperwork, always used pencils- it just didn't make sense. It was no surprise that when she went back to sleep, it started over again.

\-------------

This time, she _was_ the other person- she'd never seen him before, didn't know anything about him, including his name. He had short cropped hair and grey eyes, and was wearing average jeans and a black coat. He had a relaxed expression, and was hunched over a stack of papers, slowly and meticulously filling out the obscenely thick packet. A man in a full army uniform sat behind the desk in his perspective, glaring down through small reading glasses that looked slightly funny on his large head. Once the person she was seeing through finished filling it out- lucky her, she couldn't see anything on it, just white with a bunch of blurs through the _entire packet_ ; which felt like hours to finish- he stood and set the stack on the desk.

Suddenly he was walking down the side of the road she'd seen earlier. Everything was much clearer, almost like watching a movie. He kicked a rock, stuffing his hands in his pockets and chugging along in the ever-dimming evening. A thick fog was dancing through the forest, and a car passed by dragging the swirling fog along behind it majestically. He made it to the bend and followed it, being guided to a location unknown to her. A few drops of water trickled from the sky and hit his head.

He heard a car coming and dismissed it, watching the raindrops falling onto his coat. The car was coming pretty fast around the bend, and when he looked over his shoulder the fog had thickened and blanketed the car, which didn't have their headlights on. When he turned around the tires screamed against the blacktop, and as he turned his head over his shoulder the bright red side of the car filled his entire vision then collided- hard- against him. Everything blurred from the motion and she physically felt the impact, knocking the breath out of her. The man's vision was red with pain, and dimming at the edges. Pain screamed from every spot on his body, but mostly his chest- he must have had nearly all his ribs broken. The sound of the car pulling away was the last thing she heard and saw until everything turned black. For what felt like hours, it was just black, and the pain. After a little, the feel of the dream changed. She heard the soft calling of her name, over and over, until she snapped awake.

Dean was kneeling on the bed over her, shaking both her shoulders and in the middle of shouting her name. Sam was right beside them with the phone in hand as if he was about to call someone. He snapped it shut quickly when her eyes opened.

"Dean, Dean she's awake." He blurted and Dean released her shoulders and sat back on his heels.

"Are you okay?" He said quickly, moving to sit down normally on the bed beside her. His chest was heaving and both of them had an incredible look of worry on the, as well as a light sheen of sweat. The pain was back in her chest, but it wasn't as bad as before, since she had that while of darkness.

"Y-yeah, I think; what's going on?" She stammered, staring at them with equally wide eyes and reached up to wipe tears she hadn't noticed before from her bright red cheeks.

"You started shouting again; we've been trying to wake you up for nearly twenty minutes." Sam said with a shocked tone.

"Twenty minutes?" June blurted out and looked between the two brothers. Everyone fell silent for a short while until they caught their breath.

"What happened in there?" Dean said and pointed lazily at his head. She dropped her eyes and blinked a few times.

"I'm- not really sure, actually. It felt, not like a dream. I watch this guy do tons of paperwork, then get steamrolled over by a car- it felt like a memory, but that wasn't me, I- I've never seen him before-" Her speech got faster and her breathing picked up, so Dean raised his hands.

"Hey, you gotta- just, calm down." He said, staring at her with a straight and deathly calm face. She never knew how he did that- keep the most straight and calm face she'd ever seen, even during times of crisis and action. He must be really good at poker. As her mind traveled a bit she calmed down and Sam sat on the edge of the bed.

"Let's bring Cas down. Maybe he knows something we don't." Sam offered quietly. Dean turned to look at him for a few seconds then accepted it, nodding his head and looking back toward June. They were of course cautious about calling any angels down since they knew many didn’t want her alive, but these were odd circumstances.

"Just make the dreams stop, I don't care how." She said and gave them a rather sad smile, pulling her knees to her chest. Dean seemed preoccupied and had a look that made June believe his mind was whirring pretty fast.

"You don't think it's like... your thing?" He said and stared straight at Sam. June raised her eyebrows but kept her mouth shut because Sam spoke first.

"Hard to tell, sounds sorta like it, but it can't be- Yellow Eyes is dead." Dean scoffed lightly,

"Deader than dead," he mumbled in response then turned to face June, who gave them a confused frown. "A while back, Sam was having dreams that were premonitions of peoples' deaths. But that was because of a demon, who we killed."

"You said he was doing paperwork; you get a name?" Sam said, changing the subjects back to her dream.

"No. The papers were blurry, other faces besides his was blurry- it was like I wasn't getting all the details, just the main events." She slid down from the bed, “I'm not going back to sleep for a while, not if this is gonna happen again." She explained and walked out of the room, listening as she heard them leaving her room as well. She went to the kitchen and got a can of soup out. The microwave read a little past four. She placed the bowl in the microwave and started it up, turning around and leaning against the counter as she contently listened to the white noise created from the microwave's humming. Sam and Dean walked back through the doorway, Sam turned and entered the kitchen while Dean continued toward the library. The younger brother got out a glass of water and meandered to the table to sit down.

"So, is there anything else you can remember?" He asked, watching her with a curious look attempting to overshadow his concern.

"I know what he looked like. Dark hair, crew cut. He had a black coat on, normal jeans. Looked around twenty, white skin, tall- but not as tall as you, more like Dean or Castiel's height." June said quietly. Every time she thought or talked about it, she felt like she was talking about something from her past, something she'd been involved with- but she didn't know the man one bit. Why would talking about a stranger feel like repeating facts about her own past?

Dean entered the kitchen with Castiel following in a few seconds later. Sam and June perked up, and June jumped when the microwave beeped. She decided to leave it in the microwave since she had more pressing matters at hand. Castiel looked at June with almost sad eyes- probably saddened by her exhausted countenance.

"Dean said you were having unusual dreams?" Cas said and tilted his head to the side lightly. June nodded and crossed her arms.

"It used to be just nightmares about my past and all, but this last one was different, it felt… off. I don't know how to explain it." She explained to Castiel, then glanced at Sam as he spoke as well.

"It took almost twenty minutes to wake her up, we were ready to haul it to the hospital." June froze and sat up straighter- she hadn't really considered that they would bring her to the hospital because she wouldn't wake up, but it did make sense- if someone isn't waking up, that's sort of a frightening experience. Cas just stared at her with narrowed eyes for a short while.

"If you will allow me, I can enter your mind and see what you've seen. I may be able to help." June blinked a few times as she listened to him- she hadn't known angels had that ability- it was sort of cool, yet sort of creepy. But mostly cool.

"Alright, sure. I don't mind." She said with a light laugh and shrug of her shoulders. She hesitated and then added, "How does it work?" A curious smile pulled across her face. Cas smiled lightly and raised his hand, gently pressing two fingers onto June's forehead- and instantly everything blurred. Images from the last dream as well as other dreams were flashing so fast through her mind she could barely process them. Images of the last dream began flashing more and more often, and eventually it settled on the dream. It replayed almost in fast-forward, and as soon as it ended, she felt Castiel's fingers jerk off her head. She panted a few times and blinked before she noticed Sam giving her a concerned and stiff look, and she smiled, laughter bubbling from her mouth lightly. "That was cool." She said and let her smile turn into a grin- but it faded when she saw Castiel. He had a very confused look on his face and had locked his eyes on her without even an ounce of movement. Dean and Sam followed her gaze to watch Castiel.

"Cas?" Dean said with a low voice, and then the brothers followed Castiel's gaze to look at June as well.

"Don't look at me, all I got was an instant-reply." She said and raised her hands defensively before crossing them once again.

"You continue to perplex." Castiel said quietly, and all eyes landed on him.

"What does that mean?" Sam asked and shifted in place.

"The last dream she had, was not a dream. It was someone else's memory. How it got there, I do not know." He shook his head lightly then pried his eyes off June to glance at Sam and Dean who were giving him suspicious looks.

"Someone _else's_ memory?" Dean repeated and raised his eyebrows. Castiel nodded and looked back at June.

"Well, can you just, take it out? I sure as heck don't want it." June said and laughed nervously. Cas shook his head to that as well, giving his own idea of proceeding-

"I would like to inspect your soul." June frowned and looked toward the boys, but Sam had stiffened enough to give her cause for worry. He dropped his eyes from her to swivel them at Castiel.

"Will it help?" He asked, his voice a bit more stressed than normal.

"I will not know until after the procedure."

"Procedure?" June butted in with her eyebrows raised, "It is gonna hurt?" Sam gave her his infamous sad-eyes, but Castiel didn't sugar coat it,

"Yes, probably quite a lot." He said it almost nonchalantly, which made it even more unsettling. June's nose crinkled in disgust and she shifted her weight a bit.

"Did you even find anything from the memory?" Dean asked loudly, breaking the silence since Castiel hadn’t yet mentioned if he found anything from the memory’s content. Castiel glanced at him then continued staring at June.

"Not much, but this should tell us more." He replied, and everyone fell silent again. After a few moments, June tipped her head back and sighed.

"Okay, sure." She said quietly. When she looked back up Sam was getting up,

"You don't have to, it's definitely _not_ a fun thing, speaking from experience-" He said quickly, but June stuck her hand up,

"I don't mind much, I just wanna know what's happening. All my life I've been trying to figure out all the holes in my past, so why stop now? I've taken other risks before." Sam sighed and clenched his jaw, then nodded his head once. Castiel turned and walked toward the library, with Dean, then June, then Sam following in a solemnly quiet line. When they got to the library, Sam spoke again.

"You don't have to do this." He repeated. But he was only making her more nervous by convincing her to not do it- but she had already decided, and would follow through. She moved and sat down in an arm chair near Castiel, who was in the process of rolling up his right sleeve.

"I know, I want to. I'll be fine." She replied to Sam, giving him a small smile. Castiel turned to face her and took a few steps to stand in front of her then stopped.

"Are you ready?" He asked, locking his blue eyes directly with hers. She nodded her head and Cas stretched his arm out.

It felt like her chest imploded. She bit back from screaming for the first few seconds then ended up biting down on her finger to block any sounds. He could have been shredding her muscles into each individual strand and that probably would have hurt less. Though she didn't really notice it, Sam tugged her finger from her mouth to preventing her breaking skin. She clamped her mouth shut again and whimpered quietly, pressing her head into her shoulder and hyperventilating into the sleeve of her shirt. Castiel's arm was sunk up to his elbow in her midsection with a glow where his arm reached her skin. Sam had moved and grabbed her shoulder in an attempt at comfort, but her mind was a little too preoccupied to notice. She'd never felt pain like that before. It was completely overwhelming- she had no awareness of anything except the pain in her chest that was throbbing out through her whole body. She couldn't even hear her own cries, much less see anything through her tightly closed eyes. It felt like forever, even though it had been only a few seconds, but Castiel removed his hand and stumbled back a few steps with wide eyes. June tugged her knees up to her heaving chest, visibly shaking as she tried to calm herself down. Castiel's eyes were incredibly wide, and he seemed frozen in place. Sam on the other had knelt down as soon as June lifted her head to try and gauge her amount of pain. She was still hyperventilating, but the pain had faded to a bearable level.

"That was fast." Dean said skeptically.

"You okay?" Sam asked slowly. She moved her hand and pressed it against her middle where Castiel's hand had been and nodded timidly.

"So?" Dean asked pointedly at Cas. A look of fear tempted to cross his features, but it was overpowered by the look of shock on his face. His mouth was slightly ajar and he shook his head lightly. Slowly his expression changed back to confusion and he squinted his eyes. "What, Cas?" Dean said loudly and Sam turned to face the angel as well.

"Her soul, it, it has these-" He stammered then glared at her nervously, "Hers is there, but there are bits that aren't right."

"Aren't right?" Sam said stiffly.

"Not... hers." Castiel explained, though the answer brought new questions around.

"What?" Dean blurted out and laughed quietly, "That's not possible-"

"It isn't, not that I know of." Castiel interrupted. June, her breathing now mostly normal, was watching with fearful eyes. Why did she have these little shards of other people's souls? How was that even possible- even _Cas_ said it wasn't possible, and he would know. How would that even happen?

"Could that even happen hypothetically?" She said with a slightly hoarse voice. Castiel stared at her for a few seconds before shaking his head,

"I cannot begin to understand. As soon as I got to your soul, it's strength shoved me back out before I could see enough. I don't think it would work again."

"Good, I don't wanna do that again." June said lowly and rested her chin on her knees. "Can't we like, get them out?" She added, glancing at Sam who had been mostly silent. Dean had told her Sam had something happen to his soul a while back, but that was about all he had told her. The angel shook his head and turned around, looking around the room as if it would answer his questioning eyes.

"Well there's gotta be something-" Dean said and crossed his arms then huffed and glared at Castiel. After almost a minute of silence, Sam stepped forward,

"What about Purgatory?" He offered, and Dean looked at him with wide eyes, Castiel copying the older brother's motions.

"You think?" Dean said and looked down in thought.

"We can look into it- there has to be something we can do."

"Purgatory?" June asked timidly from her chair.

"A while back, Dean and I got stuck in purgatory- where monsters go when they die- on separate occasions, and we were able to cart a soul with us through the portal back to earth. It was an Enochian phrase, and the soul went into our arms," Sam stated calmly and tapped his forearm, "But that was a little different- their souls didn't meld with ours."

"Oh," June chirped, then turned to watch Castiel, "Cas, was there anything you saw from the dream?" He turned back around to face them, his face still confused.

"Yes. Thomas Hankard is the man in your dream- I would so much as assume part of his soul is in yours."

"And you're just telling us now?" Dean snapped and stuck his arms out at his sides. Sam slipped across the room to his laptop and typed in the name, talking as he did so,

"Why don't we go find him, track him down, see what he has-" He stopped then clenched his jaw, "He's dead." He sat down and did some more on it while June got up and walked behind him to watch on weak knees.

"Why do I have part of a dead guy's soul who I've never even heard of before?" June said and looked around at those in the room, who, besides Sam, were staring at her.

"So get this- He died at twenty two from a hit-and-run in Alturas, California. Er- twenty years ago." Sam said and leaned back in his chair.

"You ever been there?" Dean asked, though he already knew the answer;

"No, never even been to California."

"Well today's your lucky day." Dean said sarcastically and clapped her shoulder lightly, "Pack your things." He said simply and strode to the stairs. June watched until he slipped out the door, then Sam stood as well.

"Maybe we'll find something if we go there." He said and smiled sadly before walking toward his room. Cas cleared his throat from behind June, and she and Sam turned to look at him expectantly.

"There has never been a situation the same as this, but we could try a few things. If a part of his soul is with yours, then he will be stuck in the veil, unable to have his soul reaped completely." Sam perked up,

"Like having one foot in Oregon and another in Washington," He reiterated quietly.

"You could say that. We may be able to summon his spirit. Souls are not able to be cut and put into pieces, so how you have some of his, I have no idea. But I would assume that once near and summoned to us, the shard from in you should return to him." It made sense- the first thing recently that made reasonable sense. Sam nodded his head, and traveled back to his room silently in thought.

"That sounds about right." June said and smiled softly. "Thanks." Castiel nodded his head,

"I will keep in touch, I need to check some things out." He vanished a second after the last word slipped from his mouth, which was left lingering behind. June stood and blinked for a moment, then slowly walked back toward her room. Her head felt like she was walking through a swamp. So much new information and so many questions had been stuffed into her head, she was surprised it hadn't popped.


	15. Circumstantial Optimism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Dean, and June set out onto the road, heading for the place of death of Thomas Hankard with hopes to find some answers on June's new soul-status from Castiel.

June could hear Sam and Dean talking, their voices muffled for they were elsewhere in the bunker. She herself was still in her room, stuffing her last few items into her bag. When she stood the shrill ringing of her back-up phone crawled out from somewhere in the pack and she groaned, setting it back down to dig for the vibrating device. Once her hand wrapped around it she pulled it straight up to her ear, not bothering to look at the contact- the only person she knew that had that number was Garth.

"Hello?" She asked, but she already smiled lightly, expecting the voice came next.

"Hey, June," Garth's voice said happily through the phone to her ears, "How've you been?" She laughed lightly and sat down on the bed with her legs crossed, then switched the phone to her other ear to use her left hand to repack her backpack.

"Uh, busy, for the most part." She said, and leaned forward to retrieve a sock from the floor that she had dropped.

"Ah- well I'll call back later," Garth started but June stopped him;

"No- no, it's okay right now, this is probably the least busy I've been for a while." Garth chuckled,

"Those boys keeping you on your toes? You still with those two?"

"Yeah, yeah they're helping me out a lot." She replied, but couldn't help the distracted tone that slithered into her normal voice.

"Something eatin' at you?" Garth asked- He was such a 'people person', always catching every little sign people gave off. She smirked and closed her repacked backpack, resting her arm on top of it.

"Well, just a few more road bumps, but we'll make it over. Seems there's something wrong with my soul after all, and we're heading out to," She paused as Dean's head poked around the corner of her doorway with raised eyebrows, therefore she nodded at him before continuing, "Out to dig a little deeper. Have you ever met Castiel?" Garth made a humming sound as he thought,

"Mmm, nope, but I've heard the name a few times."

"He's an angel- one who doesn't want to kill me- and he's the Winchester's friend. He's gonna help us out."

"Alright. Well watch your back, kid- listen to those boys, they know what's best for you right now." She could almost hear the smile that June knew was stretching across her friend's mouth.

"Alright, I gotta go before Dean drags me outside himself."

"You owe me a lot of hugs, so you be careful and don't die out there."

"I'll be careful- trust me, been through enough excitement for a while." June replied with a laugh in her voice before they exchanged goodbyes and hung up. When she went around the corner out of her room, she nearly crashed into Sam, whom Dean had most likely sent in to get her. "Sorry, Garth called." Sam made a surprised smile and nodded his head, following her toward the stairs.

"How's he doing?" He asked, his steps quite a bit louder than hers on the stairs.

"Pretty good, worried about me like always."

"He means well." Sam said and chuckled as they slipped outside. It was still pretty dark out, probably around five in the morning, so the rest of the world was just rolling over and starting to get up with groggy movements. Once in the car and on the go, it barely took any time at all for Sam and Dean to settle down comfortably, while June was still rather wound up and energetic in the back seat.

"Do you think it will work? What Cas said?" She asked quietly, since she was the only source of noise besides the tires on the pavement and the light hum of the engine. Dean was the one who answered.

"Sounds reasonable, but nothing's ever as easy as it sounds, is it?" He scoffed lightly and dropped one hand from the wheel to rest it casually on his knee. June simply chuckled under her breath and shifted in her seat. She waited a few seconds before she spoke again.

"Cas said that Thomas's soul is a part of the few bits that aren't mine in my soul. But he only said one part- does that mean there's other people's souls in me as well?" As the question turned to a more solemn feel the more she spoke, her voice quieted and she dropped her eyes to her hands in her lap. Sam shifted in front of her and glanced back,

"Honestly? I have no idea. I mean- Cas said it, this wasn't even possible. It's hard to make assumptions about uncharted territory." He smiled sadly and turned back around, still talking. "It's a little over a twenty hour drive, so I figure we'll stop halfway-" He pulled a map out and practically produced a flashlight out of thin air, shining it down on the map since it was still rather dark out all the windows, "That would be somewhere around Salt Lake City." Dean nodded next to him, listening but keeping his mouth shut- probably to avoid June's many, many questions.

"That sounds good, as long as neither of you is driving too tired." She replied and pushed her hair behind her ears. It was all falling out of the bun so she tugged it out and ran her fingers through it, combing out the little snares at the bottom.

"Don't worry, Dean's driven a lot longer than ten hours in one stretch before." Sam said with an amused smile and settled back down comfortably in his seat.

"Not safely though." June said snidely and smirked as she crossed her arms, her mind wandering once again. "You said Thomas died twenty years ago- I was barely _alive_ twenty years ago- how is it possible I have some of his soul?" She asked timidly, feeling her many questions might bring forth agitation from the boys. Sam sighed quietly,

"I don't know how, but, somehow it happened."

"Did you see when he died? The date, I mean?" Sam paused in place then looked up in thought, searching back and trying to remember.

"Late June- ironically- I think. I'll check when we stop. Why?" He turned his head around to look at her again.

"I wasn't even alive then- At the hospital when I was with Doctor Galentine, my birth date was there- July 30th." Sam's eyebrows furrowed at her response and he stared downward toward the floor. After a second he sighed and gave her a rather apologetic smile,

"We'll know more when we get there."

"Okay." June chirped. Of course her middle still hurt a bit from having her soul wrangled, and they were heading out to find why she has part of a dead guy's soul in her, but she couldn't help but be delightfully curious and energetic. They were finally onto the trail of something that might explain the things she had been searching for her whole life- who she was. She quieted down and watched out the window for a while, the hours starting to slip by faster. At one point she started to fall asleep, but was quickly awoken when she saw a fast-motion replay of the red metal of a car hitting Thomas's vision. She jerked upward and scrambled backward into the seat, and Sam just about made Dean pull over, but she brushed him aside and calmed down. Maybe sleeping wasn't the best idea.

By now it was light out and her phone read a little past ten in the afternoon.

"I'm starving." Dean announced blatantly after hours of silence. Sam scoffed and raised his eyebrows. Dean glanced at him with a grin, and when Sam rolled his eyes and nodded in acceptance, Dean turned back to face the road with a victorious laugh. He made his way off their designated path toward some off-brand burger joint, and they all filed out happily to stretch their legs.

"I used to like car rides when I was little, but now they are so _long_." June commented and laughed, following in last after the boys, wanting to savor the actually very nice weather outside.

"You remember that?" Sam replied with a smile over his shoulder.

"Yeah," She scoffed and smiled lightly, "I remember thinking that before the crash." She could barely see Sam's features fall a little at her grim reply, but she hadn't meant it that way- a smile was still plastered on her face as she pulled her hair back up into a bun. "Getting to see new places, and how fast everything went by out the window. Oh, and I got to spend that time with my mom. She was always so busy with court stuff. She used to sing to all the songs on the radio, even if she didn't know the words." By now they had made their way to a booth, Sam across from her and Dean next to her, and Sam's smile had returned.

"That's really nice." Sam said sincerely, though it looked like his mind was wandering. Dean had mentioned their mom being killed when they were really little on one of the nights he woke her from a nightmare. She assumed Sam was searching for memories of his own mom, even though he had been so young when it happened.

A waitress with long, straight brown hair pulled into a long French braid came and took their orders, and returned surprisingly fast with drinks while the food was prepared. Sam pulled his laptop out and had it on the table in front of him, Dean was relaxing with his feet kicked up on the seat beside Sam, and June played idly with the condensation on the outside of her lemonade before drinking some. Sam perked up in his seat.

"Okay- Thomas Hankard died June 25th." He said, then leaned back in his seat to look at June. She rubbed her forehead,

"I wasn't even born at that point, come _on_." She said wearily and let her head roll forward with a bit of exasperation. "How is that possible; I wasn't even _alive_." She repeated and pulled her head back up with a small sigh. Sam sighed as well and shook his head, zoning back toward the computer. Their food arrived pretty quickly, and June began picking through her french-fries, breaking each one in half as she picked it up- the action was another habit whose origin was unknown, but she did it anyways.

Once everyone was done eating, they packed back into the Impala and continued their drive for another four hours. By then, even though it was bright and clear at a quarter past two, June managed to curl up and fall asleep once again. Surprisingly her mind didn't really try and dig up any dreams until they were pulling into the parking lot of a motel.

She was once again Thomas, striding down that foggy gravel road. She was tugged through the same events- kicking the rock, the rain drops hitting his head, the sound of the car, then turning around only to get slammed into. Then, for a little while, it was the familiar blackness. But it was shorter, and seemed to change after only a few minutes- the black turned grey, the grey to a blinding white. There were sounds of movement all around him making him dizzy as he pulled and tugged at his mind. His eyes opened and everything was incredibly blurry, though it became clearer with each blink. Through an excruciating amount of pain, he tipped his head forward as his vision finally cleared. There was so much blood, and he went to move his arm, but nothing happened. An overwhelming feel of panic flooded into his- and her- mind. He couldn't move his arms or legs. After a few more seconds he felt a liquid in his mouth, the taste of copper, and he blacked out again.

June was suddenly awake in the back seat. The door next to her was open and Dean was attempting to get her previously-sleeping body from the car, but she tugged from his grip with fear-filled eyes, skipping away in the parking lot only to have her shaky legs collapse under her. She dropped onto her rear and hit the side of the car, her lungs only then filling with a much needed intake of air. Dean dropped to his knees and grabbed her wrists, which she had pulled up defensively in front of her.

"It's okay, you're okay." He said loudly, squeezing her wrists lightly. She pulled her attention from her lingering memories of the dream to look around the real world around her, focusing on Dean, who she had barely realized was there. He slowly dropped her wrists and hunched over, trying to make eye contact. She stuck her arms out in front of her and turned them over, bending her elbows and wrists, making sure they still worked. It felt so real that upon waking her mind still thought she couldn't use her legs, therefore being why she splatted on the ground. Dean sighed and stood back up once her expression calmed and helped her to her feet. She was still a little shaky, so when Sam came out from the lobby carrying keys and caught sight of her, he jogged over with concern on his features.

"I'm okay." June muttered quietly and ran her hands through her hair.

"Nightmare?" Sam asked, glancing at her, then Dean, then back to June. She nodded and dropped her hands to her sides. Sam frowned and handed the keys to Dean before heading to the car to get his own bags. June followed Dean into the room, which had two beds and a couch, and claimed the couch.

"No, you sleep on a bed." Dean said with a laugh and dropped his bags by the table.

"No thanks. I'll probably be getting up a bunch anyways. And where I sleep doesn't matter, I'll still get the same amount of rest." She smiled and stretched her legs out then turned to watch as Sam walked in as well.

"You don't have to sleep on the couch," He started and June started laughing.

"Really, guys, it's fine. I'm choosing the couch; I've claimed it." She said and laid out on it, feeling the bump of her bun on the back of her head press into the arm of the faded tan couch. It looked to have some sort of pattern on it that had orange triangles, but it was well worn and mostly faded away. Sam gave up and put his bags on a bed, while Dean went into the bathroom. Despite her recently jarring dream and awakening, she was already starting to get tired again. She yawned and Sam glanced up, then smirked at her. She caught him and raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"You're a very happy person." He explained, then scoffed and turned back to his bag he was digging through.

"What do you mean?"

"Just- You get in a car accident, but you focus on your mom singing. Your mom _shoots you_ , and you worry about her. Your step mom abused you, and you forgave her every day for it. Optimism- I guess I just don't see that in people very often." June blinked, taken aback a bit. She hadn't really thought about it, but she did have other experiences where people told her she was a very happy person. Optimistic, always finding the best in situations- probably because of the crappy situations thrown at her. If she wallowed in the sad parts, she wouldn't have made it this far. It wasn't a surprise Sam didn't see that often- the people he normally dealt with were either already dead, or in the process of running or fighting for their lives. Dean was sometimes bubbly; mostly while lightly drunk, but definitely not energetic and smiley like her.

The conversation had faded, so she got up and stole a blanket from the closet by the door, quickly curling up on the couch. She could fit stretched out on it just fine, but curling up tended to feel more comfortable for her- it made her mind feel safer while she was asleep.

As soon as she slipped asleep, the dreams came back- but they were amazingly not the same as before. It was still Thomas, but he was in a different place- somehow her mind instantly recognized the unfamiliar place as his home. He was sitting in a living room on a dark leather couch with his sock-clothed feet propped up on the coffee table. The blinds were all open and sunlight was pouring in gleefully while the TV buzzed with sport announcements in the background. There was the sound of a door opening and he smiled, turning the television off and putting his feet back on the ground. The sound of little footsteps echoed from around the corner, then a young girl with short, dark brown hair tromped around the corner and ran straight to him with a wide smile.

"Daddy!" She cooed into his chest then backed up with a grin after hugging him tightly. Thomas grinned back just as wide and stood up, ruffling her hair. She chuckled- she must have been around six years old and had a small pink backpack dragging along in one hand. A woman came around the corner with a smile and carrying a grocery bag.

"Hey, you're home early." She said happily and continued forward into the kitchen. Thomas chuckled and stood up, scratching his chin and following her.

"Yeah, I got off so I can head down to the admittance office in a bit. Thought I'd come home first." He said, all the while following her as she put a few things away. She had light brown hair that was very straight and quite shiny and healthy looking, and freckles were dashed across her nose. He slipped his arm over her shoulder and hugged her, feeling her shoulder bounce as she laughed lightly.

Everything kept going on, but June's sight of the events started to get blurry, as if she was looking through a window that was fogging up.

"Oh, that's today- Are you going to be home for dinner? I already bought the rice, and the pork is already stewing." She asked and turned around, patting his hand that stayed on her shoulder.

"Of course I will, you know I can't skip out on your stew- I'll crawl out through the bathroom window if I have to." He replied with a joking tone and laughter in his voice. The woman- June assumed his wife- laughed and slipped away from him, turning to face the girl as she came in as well. She hummed happily and took the backpack from her daughter, setting it on the kitchen table as Thomas picked the child up, propping her on his hip. The girl laughed and reached up to mess with his short cut hair, though her fingers barely reached. "I know, looks weird, right?"

"Yeah." The girl said with a grin then bit her lip, the last thing June could make out before the sounds faded as well her sight. It was just a dim yellow-ish white now, letting her mind relax and get some well-deserved rest.


	16. Hit'N'Run Séance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June and the Winchesters arrive in town and dig around, eventually heading out to the scene of the very old crime.

"I'm sorry, that name doesn't ring any bells." The young, probably fresh-from-the-academy male police officer said from behind the counter. He had short cut brown hair that looked suspiciously like he was trying to look older, but his bright and searching eyes betrayed his attempts. Sam, Dean and June- despite June's complaints- were dressed up in formal attire, under the guise of FBI officers. It made June a little uneasy, but the boys had it mastered better than she could ever hope. "B-but I'm new here, I'll pull some files and ask our senior detective. What were your names?" June noted the young officer's badge stated Marcus Reich. Dean cleared his throat and spoke up first,

"I'm Agent Tyler, this is Agent Perry," He motioned at Sam who was to his left, "And this is Agent Jones." He concluded, nodding toward June, who was placed on his right side. Sam and June both smiled lightly as their names were stated, and even though her nerves were like bees in her head, she was almost scarily convincing. She'd always been good at lying, even though she hated the idea of doing so. The younger man smiled and shuffled in place for a minute, seemingly trying to decide what action to choose first, then slipped behind a desk and into an office in the hall- probably the head detective's.

The three of them had only just arrived, and Sam had announced they were looking into the cold case involving Thomas Hankard, who died twenty years ago from a hit and run. When the young man's eyebrows raised, Sam smoothly stated they had ‘dug something up that they wanted to put to rest’- convincing, but not enough details that they could be proved false. June relaxed once the man was out of their view and glanced up at Dean.

"I don't know how you guys like these clothes," She mumbled, tugging at the bottom of hers. They were slightly form fitting and tight, and the pants were a little too stiff for her liking- but mostly she was completely consumed with the fear of dirtying them. They weren't _that_ expensive, but she'd never had anything nicer than the graduation gown she had worn, which was rented, and she had worn jeans on underneath. Dean simply scoffed and tugged at his own,

"I like 'em. Makes people look at you, connect you with the idea of power." He smirked down at her and she could hear Sam snicker quietly.

"But they're stuffy." June countered, but couldn't help to laugh a little as well. Sam went to add his own thoughts, but Marcus had returned with an older man who had his fair share of wrinkles and grey hair. He was skinny and really tall- shorter than Sam who was 6'5, but taller than Dean who was 6'1. The new man smiled warmly and held his hand out to shake Sam's.

"Tim Greener. Senior Detective here in Modoc County." Sam smiled and returned the hand shake, then Greener sighed. "Did I hear right, y'all are looking into the Hankard incident?"

"That's right." Sam said and nodded his head. Greener whistled and motioned for them to follow him to his officer, talking as they traveled.

"My first case- that case's cold as ice, Agents. Why you thawin' it?"

"We've found some new information that might be connected to the victim, but we wanted to be extra sure and check the original records of the investigation." Dean answered with a very professional tone. Greener shook his head and breathed out a laugh,

"Yeah, well, we got the files- but there really isn't much." He had already grabbed the files apparently, because they were sitting neatly in a stack on his desk, and he pointed to them. Sam got up quickly and reached for them,

"May I?" He asked, picking them up slowly while keeping eye contact with Greener. The detective nodded and sat down behind his desk, while Sam and June sat in chairs in front of her desk, with Dean leaning against the wall comfortably.

"If my memory serves, all we got was the dead vic. Deceased upon arrival, tire tracks were too screwy to trace, no suspects."

"You didn't have any cameras nearby that could pick anything up?" Dean prodded from beside him.

"Nah," Greener said with a remorseful sigh, "Nothing up there for miles, and that road merges with major roads before it even gets close to cameras. It'd be picking a needle out of a hay stack."

"That's too bad." Dean said, and Sam shifted in his seat looking up from the files and cleared his throat.

"Says here he was paralyzed on impact, and died of shock; is that the same as the autopsy report?" At those words June stiffened at Sam's side and waited a few seconds to passively pull the files from him. She had neglected to tell them about the nightmare she had when she woke up thinking she herself was paralyzed. Even though she already knew to expect it, it was still crazy to dream something and have it come out completely true.

"Yeah. Blood work and trauma signs showed he was unconscious for a while, but woke up once before passing. Poor kid. Had a family ya' know." Greener said and rubbed his chin in thought. June scoured over the papers, the whole situation still seeming surreal to her. She already knew he woke up- she instantly felt bad for not telling Sam and Dean the dream, but she had been a little busy trying to forget the horrific scene and the subconscious pain it brought with it. It stated on the second page that his wife was Joan Hankard, she had been twenty at the time of the accident, and the picture matched the woman June saw in the dream. The same went for the daughter- Claire Hankard, age five. It dawned on June that the girl must have only been in preschool; she could easily relate to trauma at a young age.  


"So you never eyed anyone as suspects?" Dean said, pulling June back from her head.

"Thomas was loved by everyone. Enlisted into the Navy the day he died. Everyone loved him; we didn't have any footholds, investigation sunk like a rock." Greener sighed and ran his finger along the edge of the desk. The next page contained a large picture of Thomas from the autopsy, and June quietly closed it to avoid looking at the pale, sliced and stitched body. Sam noticed and cleared his throat again, placed a card on the officer's desk, and stood up while brushing his uniform,

"Would you mind if we borrowed this? We're in town for a few more days here. Doesn't look like anything, but I'd like to compare them to our records where we’re staying." Greener nodded rigorously and smiled sadly,

"Go ahead, but it’s a cold case boys." He wavered when he glanced over June, like he was going to change what he said, then disregarded it. "Have a nice day." He said, getting up with a huff and walking from the office. Dean nodded at him on his way out and the three exited in a single file line from the office, Sam carrying the folder.

"Sir," Dean said toward Greener, who turned around expectantly, "The wife and kid- they still kicking?"

"Yeah, live in the same place on the records still, if my memory is any good."

"Thanks." Dean said, and they three 'agents' exited the station.

"Alright, so, he died of the hit and run twenty years ago-" He paused and pointed at the file, "He was cremated." Sam huffed sharply.

"Well, let's go visit the missus." Dean said as they reached the car. They got into their respective spots with June in the back seat as normal, and were lucky the ride was a short one since they still lived in town.

"The wife, Joan, should be forty by now, and the daughter, Claire, should be twenty five." June offered from the back seat. Dean nodded thankfully and they soon reached their destination, piling all back out. When Sam and Dean headed up the front steps, June wavered. She felt connected to them- probably because of Thomas's soul, but it still felt oddly familiar, enough to spook her a bit. Dean glanced back at her and frowned.

"You wanna wait in the car?" After a few seconds June sighed.

"Nope." She chirped, and jumped up the steps as Sam knocked loudly a few times on the door. A younger woman opened the door, and June instantly recognized it as Claire- though she felt like even if she hadn't know about her previously, that she still would have recognized her.

"Can I help you?" Claire said quietly with a straight face. Dean and Sam showed their badges at the same time, and June pulled hers out a second later.

"We're looking into the death of Thomas Hankard, we'd like to ask you a few questions." Sam explained and smiled warmly. Claire opened her mouth but couldn't find the words and snapped it shut. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but June could see the hurt flaring in them.

"Why? He's been dead for twenty years."

"Just checking a few things, we'll only be a few minutes of your time." Said Sam, and Claire looked them all over from head to toe before very cautiously opening the door and stepping backward. As Sam, June and Dean entered they each nodded politely. Dean restated their same false names as he did in the station.

"Is your mother around?" June asked softly. Claire looked at her, but her stiff expression seemed to give a little when she looked at June. She paused and even stared at June with an odd expression for a few good seconds before blinking and snapping out of it.

"N-no, she's at work. My name is Claire." Claire replied.

"Ah. That's okay. Is there anything you can remember about that day?" Dean said. Sam and Dean sat together on the couch, opposite of the chair Claire sat in, and June leaned against the arm rest next to Sam. A coffee table with a glass center sat between them, and June noticed Dean's foot moved to rest on it. She instantly glared at him, visible enough that when he saw her he sat up straight and crossed his leg instead, averting his eyes from her sheepishly.

"I was six." Claire spat hotly, watching Dean intently.

"What do you remember about your Dad? Not just that day, but in general." June asked and smiled softly at Claire. The woman seemed to soften- June figured she must be more comfortable around women than men.

"He was strong, I- I didn't see him too much once he started applying for the Navy."

"We heard about that- it was very brave of him." June replied and linked her fingers together.

"He was brave- I don't know of anything that scared him. I used to be afraid of storms, the thunder and lightning," her voice faded and she glanced at June out of the corner of her eye, and June nodded softly to continue, "He used to stay up with me every time. And sometimes he picked me up from preschool, but that was normally my mom." Her mouth twitched into a soft yet sad smile, "He used to love stews- any type, it didn't matter- as long as there were no red onions." She chucked nervously and rubbed her nose, a sad look flashing in her eyes.

"Hold on to those memories." June said sincerely, and Claire locked eyes with her, "Keep him alive." She hesitated then smiled, managing to get a smile and a sniffle from Claire.

"There's not much to go on, but if we can, we'll try and find the man who caused all this." Sam said quietly and Claire stiffened. June caught that and glanced sharply at Sam, then at Claire. After a couple seconds of delegating in her head, June spoke again carefully.

"If we find something; someone, and it turns out true, _do_ you want us to tell you?" She tried, going out on a whim. She felt Dean glance at her, assuming he had a look that said, 'Of course she wants us to tell her', but she kept her eyes on Claire. The woman slowly shook her head and Sam and Dean both sat back in a little bit of shock.

"No," Claire said and rubbed her neck through her long brown hair, "I wanna forget about the bad. I wanna focus o-on the good." She glanced at June and smiled sadly before locking her eyes on her lap. Sensing she was pretty much done tearing the stitches out of her heart, June stood up. Sam and Dean followed in her actions.

"Thank you for your time Ms. Hankard." Dean said, and reached out to shake her hand, but she only stared at the floor. The three got up and quietly left, Dean speaking as soon as the door shut.

"Think we should go find the missus at work?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure there was anything weird going on there. I think he was just a normal person who just, was in the wrong place at the wrong time." June said quietly and leaned against the side of the Impala with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Well if it wasn't him, then why are you connected?" Dean said back with a confused expression.

"I don't know that either," she stated and laughed lightly, "But I just don't think it had anything to do with before he died." Dean crossed his arms and rested them on the top of the Impala while Sam leaned with his back against it on the same side as June. The conversation seemed to fizzle out and they all got back in, but Sam turned around to look at June as soon as he took his seat.

"You felt something in there. I could tell." He said quietly and watched for her reaction. She raised her eyebrows. Dean chimed in before her, finding an opportunity to poke fun at his brother.

"Stalker vibes, Sammy." He jousted. Sam elbowed him and Dean snickered.

"Yeah, I did. It was, well, weird. Like I knew her." Dean had gone silent by then.

"That would be Thomas's soul." Sam said and nodded his head.

"I-" June started, then huffed nervously, "I think she felt it too." Sam's eyes widened and he tilted his head to the side.

"How do you know?" Dean said and looked over his shoulder as well.

"No, Dean, I saw that too. She was scared of us, but she seemed connected to June. Like a, long-lost-sister connection or something." He scoffed and looked June over then turned back around in his seat. "Think the same would happened with the wife?" He asked and made an exaggerated frown and raised his palm.

"Probably." Dean said and mimicked Sam's face. June crossed her arms and sat back as Dean spoke again. "What now?"

"Well, how about we ask him ourselves?" Sam suggested and June sat up,

"Summon him? Maybe Cas was right, we can do what he suggested." She replied.

"Can't hurt- Cas said he probably wasn't reaped all the way- whatever that means- so it should be possible." Sam commented and Dean started up the car.

"Can you pick out where he was hit?" Dean said, eyeing June the in rear-view mirror.

"Yes." June said quickly with a sad smile, "To the inch," she added and grimaced. Sam frowned at her then took to digging through the files a bit more as they pulled away from the Hankard household. The files had the road he was found on, and June instantly recognized it once they pulled onto it a few feet. She leaned forward with her fingers curled around the top of front seat chair to watch out the front window. They reached a corner and her vision instantly flashed the image of Thomas kicking a rock in front of them. "Stop!" She shouted quickly, startling Dean who in turn slammed on the breaks.

" _Geez_ kid, a little warning would be nice." He said and looked at her grumpily. They pulled over and June practically fell from the car, Sam following closely behind. Her breath had quickened a bit from the excitement and she walked along with her eyes locked on the ground. She stared at the spot she mentally claimed as _the_ spot, but walked past it. She turned to walk the same path that Thomas had, her face straight in concentration and the boys silently watching. She froze in her step and trailed her eyes to the side, jumping a little as she recognized the rock- it was still there, lodged in the dirt a little. She must have wavered a bit because Sam crossed the average distance abnormally fast in two quick strides. She flinched, not noticing him until he was already touching her arm.

"I'm okay." She practically whispered and stepped forward a few times. Mimicking the morbid action she's seen repeated tortuously in her head she stopped where Thomas had, she turned her head over her shoulder toward the road. The fog was gone, but that was it. She scratched an "X" in the gravel and dirt mixture with her toes and looked up at Dean. "Right here." Dean pursed his lips and nodded,

"Awesome. That was fast."

"I've got it memorized." June stated simply and Sam frowned down at her with an intense look of pity.

"Let's get to it." Dean said and dropped his backpack on the ground with a thump. Sam walked over and they started setting things up. A place mat was unrolled and a bowl set on top, while Sam pulled candles out and started lighting them in a semi-circle. The bowl had some herbs in it, one looked like wormwood- associated with restless spirits. June watched calmly, but still stood only inches from the X. Dean drew a sigil on the mat with chalk and Sam stepped back with his hands in his pockets, then pulled one out- the clipped picture of Thomas from the files was in his hand. Dean snatched it and held it over the bowl, opening their dad's journal after putting a circle of salt around everything. "Amate spiritus obscure, te quaerimus, te oramus, nobiscum colloquere, apud nos circita." He recited monotonously, then lit the photo and dropped it in the bowl. After doing so much research June easily translated the Latin. It meant _beloved hidden spirit, we seek you, we beg you, come speak with us, join our circle_. He stood up and they all stared at the bowl in silence for a few seconds before looking around. When nothing happened, Sam contorted his face in confusion.

"You think he's far enough we'll need a personal object?" He asked and faced Dean. Dean crinkled his nose and frowned. June was preoccupied though- it felt like a rock had formed in her stomach.

"No, no I think it worked." She murmured and Sam snapped his head toward her.

'What do y-" He started, but there was a flash between him and June. They all jumped back, June more than them. Thomas's transparent and flickering form was standing there with an extremely confused expression. He stared at his hands and turned them over.

"Thomas Hankard?" Dean said loudly, and Thomas jerked his head up with suspicious eyes. June forced her eyes to stay locked on him, despite the burning that was growing in her stomach. She pressed her hand against it, but pressure made it a lot worse.

"Yes?" Thomas said after a minute, his voice echoing like a long distance call. At the same time as he spoke, June heard a ring and looked around before disregarding it. He flickered and was gone for a few seconds before reappearing. He turned and faced June for the first time and froze. June stared back, but mostly with wide and confused eyes. At a loss for what to say, she opened then closed her mouth.

"H-hi?" She stammered and he glared at her. Not in a mad way, mostly confused.

"Who are you?" He said looking her over. There it was again- a solid ringing when he spoke- it almost made it difficult to hear.

"My-" He flinched when June stared speaking, so she spoke slowly, "My name is June Howe." Her voice cracked and she flinched as a sharp pain twisted in her stomach. Sam froze next to her and tried to make eye contact, but she stared at Thomas.

"Do I know you?" He asked through the ringing. June finally looked at Sam since he had been obviously staring,

"Do you hear that?" She asked, pressing her hand to her ear. Sam clenched his jaw and shook his head.

"Hear what?" June bit her lip and shifted in place.

"I don't think you know me." June said and Thomas leaned forward a bit- she guessed he was hearing the same ringing when she spoke as well.

"I don't know you, but you remind me of someone." June covered her ear again- it sounded like she had headphones on too loud.

"She probably reminds you of _you_." Dean said sharply and crossed his arms stiffly. Thomas glanced at him with wide eyes, then back to June.

"I-I don't know. I don't understand." He muttered and crossed his arms as well, before flickering away again.

"Hate it when they do that." Dean muttered. Sam and Dean both shifted in place when he vanished. June's breathing had quickened unknowingly as she tried to pinpoint the pain in her stomach. It was getting stronger, but when he vanished it relieved a bit- it had to be connected, the soul thing or something. Sam stepped forward and pressed his hand against her exposed wrist.

"You're really warm." He announced and stared at Dean.

"I'm okay." She replied, but when Thomas reappeared she buckled over. It felt like someone stabbed her, but from the inside.

"Let's stop." Sam said, but June raised her hand and stood back up,

"No." She breathed, and noticed Thomas had his hand on his stomach as well. "Do you know anything about your soul?" She asked with a shaky voice and tried to regulate her breathing. Thomas scratched his head with his free hand and narrowed his eyes,

"My soul?" He asked with an astounded tone. Dean sighed.

"He doesn't know anything." He seemed annoyed, but June wasn't really paying much attention. She grunted and bent over again with a pained face.

"June?" Sam snapped. She quickly stood up straight her chest heaving and rolled up her coat then shirt, staring at her normal looking stomach. She pressed her hand against it and left it there.

"I have p-part of your soul, do you," She cleared her throat, "D-do you know why?"

Thomas just shook his head with the same confused eyes, but seemed pained as well.

"June." Sam said and stiffened.

"I'm fin-"

" _June."_   He repeated and grabbed her wrist, moving her hand. She flinched and glared at him, then looked down. Her stomach was barely glowing a visible blue, but when she pressed on it seemed to shine brighter- the light was inside her. She started panicking and tried to speak, but the pain flared up.

"We're done." Dean announced and stepped forward.

"Don't." June snapped with a grimace, "Don't, not yet." She reiterated and swallowed. She grimaced again and stuffed her hand in her pocket, then removed her pocket knife, flicked it open and pressed it to her stomach in one movement. Sam moved toward her, trying to stop her but she elbowed him in the gut- he was at the perfect height, he had it coming- and cut a thin line on her stomach. It didn't hurt much at all in comparison to the burning she already felt. June wasn't quite sure why she did it, the actions seemed to just pop into her head. Her vision started to blur, but she was able to see a thin line of wispy blue light flow from her cut and toward Thomas, where it connected on his chest. He stepped back with wide eyes and coughed a few times, and the wisp dissipated in and around him. His form flickered a few times.

Luckily Sam was close because June's legs gave out and she realized she'd been holding her breath.

"June?" Dean said quickly with wide eyes, "She okay?" He snapped at Sam.

"I- I think so." Sam stammered and slipped his arm under her shoulder. Her head was swimming, but with the pain disappearing her vision cleared. Just in time to see Thomas light up the same glowing blue, and flash away with a white light. All the candles went out and the bowl flipped over, causing Dean to jump back. They all stood in silence for a few seconds before June realized Sam was holding her up. She attempted to shrug free, but only managed to nearly fall on her rear. He caught her by the crook of her elbow and pulled her back up.

"You okay?" He said quickly, turning her to face him.

"Yeah." She mumbled quietly and rubbed her eyes with on hand, still stiffly clutching the knife in her other hand, which was shaking. Dean stepped toward and slowly uncurled her hand and took the knife from her while watching her carefully.

"You gotta warn us before you start carving into yourself." He said quietly, not wanting to upset her, but quite upset himself.

"Sorry." June said and tested her legs before slipping from Sam's hold. He reluctantly dropped his arm and watched her, but she was feeling quite a bit better.

"That was... weird." She said and smiled weakly yet widely, causing Sam to laugh once and stuff his hands in his pockets comfortably.

"And she's back," He stated with a smirk. June snickered and shifted her weight from foot to foot. She was lightheaded, her cut was starting to sting, and she was pretty sure she couldn't trust her legs for a little while, but besides that, she felt fine. Not much different, but there was something. She froze and looked around the area quickly, her actions making Dean stiffen with concern. She knew the area just as before, but it didn't feel the same- it didn't feel like she knew the place. She didn't feel like she knew Thomas the same way either- he was just another person in her life. An important one, but she didn't feel as connected as before- like he was a friend, not family. Then she felt like she was going to puke. She pressed her hand to her mouth and doubled over and the boys jumped into action.

"Okay, time to go. Dean said and gripped her shoulder. The nausea subsided a little and she stood back up. Dean paused and his eyebrows furrowed, and he moved his hand to her neck. She flinched in return- his hand was ice cold.

"You're right. She’s burnin’ up." He said, directed toward Sam, and looked June over once before sighing. "Come on. Let's go back to the motel." He said quietly and pointed at Sam then June. Sam nodded and walked over, tugging June lightly alongside him to the car while Dean bent down and started packing everything back up.

Once resting in the back seat, June rolled up her shirt to look at the cut and froze- it was _still_ bleeding?

"Sam?" She said warily as he turned to go help Dean. He stopped and turned back, and upon seeing the cut jumped and moved to the trunk, getting out some cloth as a makeshift bandage. It was barely two inches long, and she hadn't thought it was deep- she barely pressed. He tossed it to her and she held it on the wound. It didn't really hurt too badly, but it was really determined to bleed. Sam got up and walked to help Dean, and June could barely hear their exchanged words.

"I hope that did more good than bad." Sam had muttered.

"Yeah, I know." Dean said hoarsely and she saw them both stand up. Sam glanced at her and she dropped her eyes.

"She's still bleeding a ton, we should get back."

"Still? What, is she anemic now?" When she heard them walking back over with the crunching over gravel under their boots, she sat up a bit more into a normal position and moved the cloth. After a few seconds it continued bleeding and she replaced it. When the brothers got in the both turned around to face her instantly.

"You okay?" Dean said, watching her carefully.

"Yeah, I'm okay." She said and smiled softly. The boys seemed a little unconvinced, but they turned back around silently.

When they were halfway to the motel Sam decided to speak up.

"So," He didn't quite seem to know what to say about everything, but found words anyways, "His soul, went back to him. I think." He said and looked at June with a frown.

"Yeah, I would say the same." June said quietly. She hadn't moved the cloth, but she could feel her fingers getting sticky. Why was it so persistent?

"Do you feel different?" Sam inquired.

"Kinda, actually. Like the whole ordeal and I are... different. Before he felt like family, but now he's just a friend. That road is just a road, it doesn't feel as important."

"That's good. I think." Sam said and smiled sheepishly at her. She shifted her hand holding the cloth and switched hands under her shirt, but when she pulled her previous hand out it was covered in red. She sat forward and Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Uh-um." June stammered and looked at Sam with fearful eyes. He glanced out the window then back at June.

"You good for four minutes?"

"Yeah." June said and attempted to push his concern aside with a smile, but he was blatantly not affected.

When they pulled into the parking lot, June was pretty sure the boys were already out before the engine even stopped. Both doors were opened in the back, Dean leaning in toward her back, Sam toward her legs. He reached his hand forward and she grabbed it, letting him help her out and up- which was surprisingly easy for him because of her small size. She rolled her shirt back up and froze mid-step; there was a lot of blood on her stomach. Sam must have sensed her panic because he pushed her shirt back down and pulled her by the arm toward the door. Dean rushed around them and fumbled the key into the lock, shoving the door open and stepping back for Sam and June to go in first. He sat her down on the nearest bed and she rolled her shirt back up, Dean closing the door behind him and kneeling down in front of her.

"Why won't it stop?" She said with a weak voice and pressed her hand against it. Dean waved at her hand and she moved it. He tried to wipe the blood away as gently as possible with the back of his hand, but she still flinched a little.

"It's not even deep, barely a nick." Dean mumbled and Sam shuffled around the bed to go retrieve the first aid kit. Never really fond of blood, June was still in a bit of a panic, therefore when Dean glanced at her he did a double take when he saw her chest heaving. "Hey, you're okay." He said quietly and shoved on her shoulder lightly. She complied and laid down, her wide eyes locked on the ceiling. When Sam returned she shot back up in a flinch of fear.

"Whoa, hey." Sam said and raised his hand to show her the wet towel he was holding. She took a few deep breaths to try and calm down, nodded, and laid back down. She flinched at his touch but relaxed. June tried to watch the ceiling but found herself watching Sam. He hesitated and his eyebrows furrowed.

"What?" She said quickly and he blinked.

"Calm down, its fine. I just don't know why it won't stop bleeding." He said, barely glancing at her before wiping her stomach again. She reached up and rubbed her forehead- she was getting hot. Dean must have noticed because he reached over slowly and pressed his hand to her head then grumbled quietly, standing up and walking away. June panicked yet again,

"What?" She mumbled then moved to sit up.

"June, calm down." Sam said and set the towel down, pushing her lightly to the side to sit next to her. "It's fine, nothing we can't handle. You have a fever- you've had 'em before." He said softly and pressed the towel to her stomach. "Hold this." He said and glanced at her, waiting until she moved her hands to it and nodded before standing up back at the first aid kit. Dean returned first with a can of beer and she raised her eyebrows.

"Not to drink." He said with a carefully annoyed face, pressing it against her head. She flinched- it was _really_ cold, but she raised one hand to hold it there gratefully. She caught Sam and Dean exchange that knowing look once against and closed her eyes. She almost wanted to sleep, but she was a little too worried she'd bleed to death. She opened them again when Sam returned, and he held out gauze to trade the towel for. She sat up for him and he wrapped the bandage around her middle tightly. Once done he turned and began putting some things away, and June switched hands with the can- her other hand was starting to go numb. Minding the bandage, she pulled her knees up carefully and Dean walked from where he had been leaning against the wall to stand at the foot of the bed.

"I'm gonna go out and get some food. Do you want anything specific?" He asked her as he shrugged his worn leather coat on. She shook her head and he nodded,

"Just get us whatever you're getting." Sam said and smiled lightly. Dean laughed and opened the door turning to face them before leaving,

"Pie for everyone!" He announced and winked, walking out backwards.

"You better bring real food too." Sam shouted with a laugh, barely getting his words out before the door snapped shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh- while writing this I was in my living room and the TV was on, with an episode ready to be started on Netflix. It had been sitting there like that for a while, and just now it flashed and went back to the "Who's watching Netflix?" screen. I'm sure it's supposed to do that, but it did give me chills since I've never noticed that happen before. Also listening to "Seven Devils" by Florence & the Machine, and the TV changed right as she said, "Seven devils in your house"... Okay then..


	17. Breathtaking Vagaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only barely able to relax after releasing part of her soul, June is immediately confronted with a frightening involuntary action linked to an unfamiliar set of dreams. She and Sam share some time in conversation as well.

After Dean had returned, everything settled down a bit. June checked on her bandage every so often, but it seemed to still be bleeding, even when it started to get dark around seven. Her fever was down- it had been one hundred and four, but by now it was wavering between one hundred and ninety eight. Despite the boys' relentless attempts to get her to sleep on a bed, she refused to get off the couch. She was smaller and would actually fit on the couch, and she honestly didn't care where she slept. Dean gave up after a while, and Sam tried a new tactic- he set up his bed on the floor, refusing to use the bed if June wouldn't. June simply stooped to his level and refused to sleep on the couch if Sam wouldn't sleep on the bed- by now it had turned into a game between the three, lighthearted and pulling laughter from them at random.

"Why won't you sleep on the bed?" Sam asked with an exasperated tone. He and June were sitting next to each other on the ground, leaning against the back of the couch.

"Because I'm the only one who fits on the couch."

"You're sick and bleeding, just sleep on the freaking bed." Sam said and laughed, then got cut off by a yawn. June snickered as well and tipped her head back to rest against the couch, shaking it lightly with a smile.

"I like the couch." She quipped and yawned as well. Sam just groaned and covered his face with his hands. Dean was watching them with a sleepy grin, sitting on the foot of the other bed. They had all been up for over twenty-four hours by now, and everyone's will to fight was gone- now it was just fun bickering. Dean began to laugh to himself for seemingly no reason then quieted down for a bit. Finally he stood and scratched his chin,

"I don't care what you guys decide, I'm going to sleep." He, realizing faster than Sam- who was being stubborn- that June was not going to deprive either of them from a bed, crawled onto the second bed. Sam sighed, and gave up, rising to his feet with a grunt and grabbing the thermometer from the table to hand it to June. She contently put it in her mouth and looked up at him, watching him yawn and rub his eyes.

"You're not going to give up, are you?" He asked with a tired voice. June shook her head. The thermometer beeped, showing she was back at ninety eight for the third time in a row.

"I'd rather sleep on the couch," she kept her voice quiet in respect for Dean who was trying to sleep, "If anyone deserves it it's you, you guys saved my life the first day you met me." She smirked and Sam gave her an annoyed face.

"Come on, don't pull that card." He replied, and held his hand out to her. She took and it let him help her up, and he moved crankily to the bed. June smiled and walked around the couch, dropping down onto it instantly. Before letting her heavy eyes close, she rolled her shirt up and lifted the gauze a little. It looked like it was finally clotted over, so she sighed in relief and pressed the bandage back down, moving carefully to prevent any chances of opening it again. She was half-asleep almost instantly- they had been awake for so long, and having a fever and part of your soul removed can do a girl in. She glanced around the room when Sam clicked the lamp off. The room they ended up in had rusty-red painted walls and pictures of canyons on each. The couch was actually a rather nice tan leather one, worn enough that it didn't stay cold for long. The bathroom was completely laden with seashells and little wooden boats- it was a little overdone, but the whole place was pretty cute and quaint according to June's bright eyes.

It takes a person's mind a little while to shut down into the REM state, which is when the dream recognizes and you actually see it. Therefore, June was a sleep for around a half hour, but as soon as her mind kick-started a dream, just a flash of pale yellow, she jerked up in spot, gasping for air. She woke up disoriented and completely out of breath, and her throat felt dry as if she had been holding her breath. Once she got enough air into her lungs she of course began to cough and doubled over. A hand rested on her shoulder at the same time as the light clicked on and she flinched. She opened her eyes, wide with fear, and noticed Sam had a hand on her shoulder and was lightly shaking her. Dean came around in front of her as well. Both looked almost as scared as her.

"Are you okay?" Sam said quickly. But by now the three of them were pretty used to her waking up from nightmares, therefore once they noticed she was fully awake, everyone calmed down. She pulled her knees up to her chest as her breathing slowed and the spinning in her head stopped.

"I'm okay," She croaked and Dean grimaced. Her turned and left and she heard the faucet running.

"Another dream?" He asked from the sink, filling a cup with water.

"I guess." She replied and ran her hand through her hair, fiddling with the bun in the back.

"You guess? Are you not sure?" Sam asked and arched an eyebrow.

"Well, there wasn't really a dream at all." Sam sat back and his eyes narrowed. Dean brought the glass over and carefully put it in June's slightly shaky hands, "Thanks. But yeah, I didn't see anything, just woke up. Not breathing." The brothers watched her in silence for a few seconds in thought. June drank some water, which helped ten-fold.

"You want one of us to stay up?" Sam inquired quietly. June shook her head.

"Probably just a fluke," She muttered, even though her words were tainted with uncertainty, "If it happens again then I'll stay up and try again tomorrow night." Dean glared at her in return and gave his own plan of action,

"No, you'll go back to sleep, and one of us will stay up." June gave him pleading eyes but he didn't budge, so she dropped her gaze to the water.

"Alright. Sorry." She muttered and Sam patted her shoulder, the two retreating back toward their beds. June rubbed her eyes and laid back down, but was a little hesitant to go back to sleep- it wasn't a fun thing to wake up not able to breathe. But she pushed it aside and forced her eyes closed, and fell back asleep after a little while.

\-------------

"You sure you wanna come?" Garth asked and crossed his arms, turning to face June. She gave him a knowing look and crossed her arms as well, one hand holding a balanced silver knife.

"Of course. You need back up, I'm here." She smiled up at him, and he smiled back a bit as well.

"Alright. Repeat it all back to me." He replied and narrowed his eyes with a sly visage.

"I have the silver knife, you have the silver bullets and the gun. We're going through the side door, I stay behind you. If we get separated, aim for the heart, I won't get two shots. Claws are nasty, and avoid getting bitten at all cost. If separated, don't get between you and the wolf so you can still take any possible shots." She scoured the back of her mind, scratching for anything she might be forgetting or leaving out, but Garth laughed and slapped her shoulder.

"Alright- Let's go Garth that werewolf." He said and grinned, closing the trunk of his car and began walking toward the old house. Their footsteps were quiet as they could be on the loose gravel up until they rounded the house and reached the door. Garth looked at her, making sure to lock eyes, and she nodded for him to go ahead. She pulled her knife up a hair and Garth turned the handle-

 _Click_ \- it was anticlimactically locked. He grumbled and hunched over, picking at the lock, then pushed the door open silently. Luckily the hinges didn't scream metallic protests like June had worried it might do, and they stepped in silently. June kept close to Garth but hung back when he passed a door in order to peek inside while he turned the corner. The room she had entered was a small office, cluttered with an old desk, an ancient-looking computer, and the blinds had fallen off the windows and laid in a heap on the dusty floor.

They had found that a woman named Clara Wilson was the werewolf- unbeknownst to her, since they change during night in their sleep on the full moon, and had went to her apartment first. But when they opened the door to her room, they caught the last second of her jump down from the second story out her balcony. They turned heels and took off after her, and managed to track her to this old hunting cabin they were now tip-toeing through.

June slipped back out and around the corner, spotting Garth opening the door to a closet. She watched him silently, but at the same time as he closed the door the hair stood up on the back of her neck. Garth turned to face her at the same time as she turned to get a face-full of werewolf stepping toward her. They look mostly human, but their finger nails extend into claws, and their teeth get larger and sharper- all things that go back to normal after the full moon. She instantly dropped to a squat and the claws swept over June's head with a growl. June jumped backwards and skipped out of the way, but when the bang of the gun went off, a wound opened up on the werewolf's shoulder instead of heart- he'd missed. Clara intelligently ducked out of the way and went for June instead of Garth, because running down a gun didn't have the highest rate of survival. June ducked again and stuck the knife in Clara's side, who howled and grabbed June's shoulder, shoving her with quite a bit of force. June stumbled back and slammed into the wall, and the werewolf ducked into the kitchen to avoid getting shot since Garth had advanced forward. Garth ran into the kitchen first with June following, but the room was eerily empty. His face contorted in confusion and he stepped forward, noticing the exit on the other side wrapped back around to the living room they had previously been in. The two realized in sync that the werewolf had looped back around, but Garth moved faster. He turned around to see Clara behind June about to lunge and acted on instinct as she snarled.

"Move!" He shouted and planted his arms on her side, shoving her a little harder than expected and shot Clara in the heart at point blank. June had stumbled a few feet and crashed into the kitchen table, and before the werewolf even dropped to the ground, June could hear Garth jogging over to her and saying her name. She was dazed, but he helped her up quickly to her feet to assess any damage she might have as the werewolf's body fell to the ground with sickeningly wet thumps.

"I'm okay, Garth." She said and brushed his hands aside.

"You need more meat on your bones, kid, I threw you further than I could have thrown the table." He said and laughed weakly, turning to face Clara's limp body. When June brought her hands to rub her eyes, she removed them and instantly woke up.

\-------------

She blinked, slightly confused that she was staring at the motel ceiling and not the dead body of a werewolf, but she quickly realized it was a dream- her last hunt with Garth, actually. She sat up, remembering the bandages and tugging her shirt up sleepily. She moved the gauze, happy to see the wound had finally given up and healed quite a bit. She stretched her neck and peered over the back of the couch at the beds, where both Winchesters were still sleeping silently. She rubbed her eyes- it was starting to get light out, and she figured her internal clock hadn't failed to wake her up at six like normal. Sadly she’d discovered the reason she woke up at six every morning was because Heather didn’t like it when she slept in past then. When she got to her feet and traveled silently into the kitchen, her assumptions were proven correct- it read a little past six in the morning. She was glad she hadn't woken up choking, and figured not to dwell on it as to not jinx it. She retrieved her old glass of water from beside the couch and dumped out its contents out at the sink to fill it with fresh water.

Dean had brought cheeseburgers, fries, two salads, and a pie back from the store for dinner that night, so June had eaten one of the cheeseburgers to save the salad for breakfast. She quietly moved around the kitchen, and by the time she had her salad out and was in the motion of sitting down at the table, Dean rolled over in his bed loudly. She smiled and chuckled quietly to herself as he raised his head slowly and peered around with his eyes still half-closed from sleep and finally settled on her. He groaned quietly and laid back down, getting up a few minutes later. He went into the bathroom first, and by the time he came out and made his way to June, she was nearly done with her salad.

"That all you eatin' for breakfast? Rabbit munchies?" He said and stretched his arms out while yawning. June nodded with a soft smile,

"Don't poke fun at me, I got your pie out for you, it's on the counter." She pointed her fork over her shoulder where lo and behold, she had kindly gotten a slice of pie out on a plate for Dean. She noticed he normally got up earlier than Sam recently, probably because June had caught Sam staying up late a few times, kindly making sure she slept for a little before letting himself sleep. She'd caught Dean doing the same twice, but Sam had been the culprit over four times. Dean grinned and laughed quietly, smacking June's shoulder happily as he walked past,

"You're better to me than Sammy." He joked, and brought the pie to the table and sat across from her. "You able to breathe the rest of the night?" He asked before taking a bite, watching her with tired but curious eyes.

"Yeah, actually. Just a regular dream- been a long time since I had one." Recently the only dreams she had been having was repeats of Thomas's death, over and over until she could probably draw the scenes with her eyes closed.

"That's good- improvement already." He said once he mostly finished chewing his food. He swallowed then continued, "Stomach?" He stated shortly.

"Finally healed over." Dean gave her a thumbs up then they both turned toward Sam, who had sat up in his bed and was running his hand through his hair. June waved and Sam smirked and got up, joining them at the table.

"Dreams?" Sam asked June as he rubbed his face sleepily.

"Normal human dreams, first time in a long time." Sam straightened up and nodded his head with a smile- it was almost a shock for any of them to hear her say her night was full of anything but nightmares.

"Good, that's good- really." He said and leaned back comfortably in his chair. "What should be do now?" He asked, looking between June and Dean with his eyes a little more awake.

"I say until something else pops up, we just tail it back to the bunker." Dean said and got up, already finished with his pie while June had forgotten about her salad in the midst of conversation. She nodded in agreement and tossed in her own input,

"Sounds good to me- maybe that was all my soul needed." Sam gave her a pitiful look and she tilted her head in confusion, "What?" He raised his hand in dismissal and shook his head, but June continued staring at him until he relented.

"It's just that, nothing's ever that simple with people like us." He shrugged his shoulders and glanced at Dean, who was now holding a can of beer. The sight pulled a glare from June toward Dean before she turned back to Sam.

"It doesn't hurt to be hopeful Sam." June said and grinned, getting up from her seat and tossing the paper plate from her salad, "You should try it sometime." She jousted and stuck her tongue out at him childishly as she walked past him toward her bag. He shoved her playfully with his foot as she walked past, and she laughed even as she stumbled into the side of the couch, making her laugh more. She was in a rather good mood considering she had actually gotten a bit of rest. She dug through her bag and got out clothes to change into.

After about an hour they had packed up and filed back into the Impala, which was starting to feel homey to June since she'd been in it so often recently. But by the time they put 6 hours between them and the motel, June was practically ready to walk the rest of the way home; being cooped up for so long was starting to get to her, though it didn't seem to effect Sam or Dean one bit. In order to entertain herself, she dropped into the natural habit of asking questions- probably enough to be annoying, especially since she already knew none of them knew the answers.

"If Thomas Hankard's soul was only part of the abnormalities in my soul, how many could there be?" She leaned forward and rested her arms on her knees, listening. Sam turned to face her from the front seat while he replied.

"I have no idea. This wasn't technically possible to begin with, so there can't be _that_ many." June perked up, straying a little from the prior subject.

"If the other dreams I had were connect to Thomas, do you think whatever that was last night could be the same?" She looked up at him with a curious face, his reflecting as curious as well, with a side of concern.

"I-I don't know, it'd make sense. You didn't see anything at all?"

"Just a pale yellow, and I woke up not breathing." Sam gave her a sad, sympathetic smile and shook his head. "I felt chest pain when Thomas was killed, and he was hit by a car on the chest- maybe whatever is happening relates to someone not being able to breathe?"

"One step at a time, kid." Dean said and rolled his eyes, "If we get more information later, then we'll fix it." The conversation died down a bit, and by the time they reached the motel at six in the evening even Sam and Dean were vying to get up and do something as well. June had curled up on the kitchen chair in at the small table, fiddling with one of her pocket knives. She noticed Dean was edging toward the door, and Sam had a sour look on his face.

"I'm gonna," Dean cleared his throat, "float around town; mingle." Dean said and slipped his coat on, smoothly making his way toward the door. June narrowed her eyes and glanced at Sam, who sighed.

"He's going to a bar."

"Dude," Dean said and glared at Sam, then opened the door.

"Don't come home drunk or I'm not letting you back in." June shouted before the door closed. Sam pinched his lips together to keep from laughing and rolled his eyes. He shuffled around the room and pulled out his laptop, sitting down on one of the beds with a sigh. June closed her knife and slipped it into its respective pocket before crossing the room to sit on the foot of the same bed. "Have you seen anything that might be in our line of work?" She inquired with a smile- she needed something to do now that they were at a standstill with her whole soul situation, and hunting seemed the perfect getaway. Even if it was a life threatening and stressful getaway. Sam glanced up at her and pursed his lips,

"Not sure. It's only been one day since you get part of your soul ripped off, don't you want to rest?" He raised his eyebrow and leaned back.

"I feel fine- I didn't have a nightmare, my stomach's not bleeding, haven't had a fever all day- best I've felt in a little while. You'd be edging to get back in the saddle too." Sam made an exaggerated frown and nodded his head in approval.

"Well, I haven't come across anything yet, but I'll let you know if I find something." June nodded her head and laid down on the bed with a bored expression, "You could have gone with Dean if you wanted." June scoffed loudly,

"Don't worry, I didn't want to."

"Drinking's not too bad, and I don't even think Dean _can_ get drunk anymore." Sam countered, then watched her for her reaction.

"Not many good experiences come from drinking though. I guess I'm biased; being a victim of a drunk driver." Recognition flooded into Sam's eyes and he grimaced,

"Oh, man, sorry- I didn't think of it like that." June smirked and rolled her eyes,

"Like you haven't had bad experiences caused by alcohol?" Sam paused for a moment, his eyes turning down in thought.

"Well, my Dad wasn't the greatest when he'd come back to the motel after a hunt completely drunk." A look of agitation ticked onto his face before her looked back at the computer.

"It couldn't have been all bad, being with your dad while you could." June stated quietly, watching him as to be sure she didn't hit any nerves. She knew their father was dead, but she didn't really know much else about him- she was pretty sure his name was John; she'd heard it once.

"Dad and I butted heads a lot, didn't really get along. Fought like dogs to the day I left, which was the biggest fight."

"You said you left for college, right?"

"Yeah, law school." The corner of Sam's mouth twitched up in a small smile.

"So then Dean stayed with your dad?"

"Yeah- Dad's perfect little soldier." June hesitated as Sam's smile faded back down.

"Do you think my dad might still be out there?" June asked quietly, and Sam turned to look at her, the darker side of the conversation pulling him from the computer.

"Possibly. I don't see why not."

"I know my mom and Dad were getting divorced when she shot herself- and me. Then when she died, I went with my Dad and Heather. But I don't really remember what happened after my Dad caught Heather," She paused, "You know." She sat back up with her legs crossed and messed with the blanket, feeling Sam's eyes still on her.

"We can try and look for him once we know you're going to be alright, and not suffocating in your sleep and whatever other nightmares might turn up." June looked up at him and nodded, pulling her hair down from the bun and running her hands idly through it.

"I wonder what happened that he wouldn't try to find me- and how I got with that Olivia woman." She sighed and pulled her blonde curls over one shoulder, "Olivia was nice- she made me macaroni and cheese the day she brought me to the foster program. It was half burnt- I think it was the first time she'd ever made it." A smile crept its way back onto her lips and Sam seemed to relax at the lighter turn of the conversation. She looked toward the door, then glanced at Sam, "How long do you think Dean will be out?" Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes,

"I'm just hoping he doesn't come back with a girl."

"You think he'd do that?" June asked in shock, with wide eyes. Sam sat up straighter and stumbled over his words,

"No- no, he wouldn't, I didn't mean to freak you out." June relaxed and ran her fingers through her hair, her eyes still a little wide.

"It's alright," June said and laughed weakly before deciding to change the subject, "How come you didn't go with him?"

"Well, you probably shouldn't be alone in a hotel room if you stop breathing-

"It only happened once!" June interrupted with a smile, then let him continue,

"And it's not like I wanna sit around and watch him flirt, only to drag his stumbling butt back here. He'd probably get me in on scamming pool games. Last time he scammed a guy at pool, he came back with a nasty shiner on his left eye- but you should have seen the other guy." Sam grinned and laughed lightly, and June shook her head with a smile.

A couple hours later Dean did come back, luckily alone. He smelled a little like beer, but not as bad as June expected. He looked like he had a decent time, so she held back from nagging him about it. He was pretty chipper since he _did_ end up playing pool and came home with a pretty decent turn out. Sam went out and got pizza, and after another few hours, they were all in their separate sleeping locations. And, just like before, June barely managed to fall asleep before she stopped breathing in her sleep one again. She was woke up from someone shaking her shoulder, and once awake she started gasping for air, coughing in between breathes. Sam was the once who had woke her up, and had an odd look upon his face- a mixture of worry, fear, and something similar to agitation. Dean entered her view a few seconds later, and Sam glanced at him obviously. Once she caught her breath she looked at Sam with fear flooded eyes.

"I hadn't fallen asleep yet, and I heard you stop breathing," He explained and tightened his jaw, "I waited a few seconds to see if I just didn't hear you, but you just, stopped breathing." June let her eyes fall, scanning the carpet in thought before Sam spoke again. "I should have got up the second I thought something was wrong." He said and pulled his eyes from her to stare across the room.

"Sam, come on. You didn't know." Dean snapped at him, and June looked between the two.

"You didn't wake up on your own this time." He said, still talking to June. Realization dawned on her and she looked up at him with a scared expression. What if Sam had been asleep already? How long would she had been not breathing until she woke up?

"This is beginning to become a little bothersome." She said quietly with a scratchy voice. Dean stood up and crossed his arms, walking in a circle in thought. Sam had been sitting on the couch, and sat back with his arms crossed. After a few seconds of deadly silence, Sam got up quietly.

"I'll stay up tonight, I'm not tired." He stated with a nonchalant tone and walked toward the kitchen table. While he was in the process of pulling a chair around to sit on it backwards, June piped up.

"No, Sam, you can sleep. If someone should stay up, it's me." She crossed her arms and frowned, "I got a ton of rest last night." Sam made an annoyed face and sat down comfortably and silently.

"June, you sleep. Sam and I'll take shifts." Dean said stated and rubbed his eyes, obviously stressed like the rest of them.

"Guys," June stated but Dean dropped his hand from his face.

"No, June. Go to bed." He snapped and moved back toward his own bed. June flinched at his words and dropped her eyes to the ground. Feeling the tension in the room heighten, she felt her nerves twist as well and kept her mouth shut. She could feel eyes on her and glanced up at Sam, who was watching her with a hint of worry dusted over his features. She dropped her eyes to the ground again.

"Sorry." She whispered to him and laid back on her side on the couch. Dean turned the light off a second after, darkness blanketing the room. She blinked a few times, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness, then closed them anyways. She heard Sam shift in the chair and flicked her eyes open, but her eyes hadn't adjusted yet. After about twenty minutes, she managed to relax enough to fall back asleep.

At first, it was the familiar pale yellow color, though it started to fade to an actually rather blinding white. At the same time, a very faint noise tickled her ears, slowly getting loud enough to discern. The sound of young children laughing suddenly filed her head, as if she had been underwater and just broke the surface. It was loud, and to be honest, sort of creepy. Just a few kids laughing, then the sound of fabric being ruffled.

June sat up and sucked in a sharp intake of air, and though she realized she was awake, her mind instantly slipped into a state of panic- she could still hear the laughter. She stumbled to her feet with her chest heaving for air and nearly ran into Sam, who had just stood as well- probably to wake her up.

"June?" He asked and grabbed her wrist, for she was turning wildly in circles. She tugged against his hold lightly but barely even registered he was there, because she was searching for the location of the laughter. It was fading, but she could still clearly hear it. She stepped around him but he stopped her by her wrist. "What? What's wrong?" She ignored him, still trying to catch her breath, and slipped from his grasp. The light turned on and she flinched, half noticing Dean standing at the switch.

"June?" He asked, to no avail. She spun in another circle with wide eyes and trotted to the door, jerking it open. At that point Sam jumped forward and grabbed her wrist again, pulled her back a few steps, and turned her to face him. She froze and locked eyes with him, breaking herself from the dazed state she had been in.

"What's wrong?" He repeated slowly, and her face contorted in confusion. As soon as she fully had awoken, the laughter suddenly went dead silent- the lack of the ambiance was almost painful, yet extremely relieving.

"I- You didn't hear it?" She stammered, and looked down at where he was gripping her wrist, noticing she was visibly shaking. Sam frowned, and she flinched as Dean shut the door behind her despite that he closed it quietly.

"Hear what?" Dean asked, and Sam dropped her hand, walking her back to the couch.

"That laughing." She sighed- it really had been in her head like she thought. Had she just not woken up all the way? Sam's eyebrows raised and he looked at Dean.

"There was nothing." Sam explained quietly, and June closed her eyes, sitting down on the couch and pulling her knees to her chest. "You're shaking." He commented even quieter, and she followed his gaze to her hands. She laughed weakly.

"Laughing?" Dean asked and leaned against the arm of the couch as Sam sat back down in his kitchen chair from earlier.

"Yeah. In my dream, before I woke up not breathing, I heard laughter, from little kids. Then I woke up not breathing, but I could still hear it." She said, and glanced at Dean as he grimaced.

"That's not creepy at all." He mumbled quietly with thick sarcasm. Sam glared at him then looked back toward June, then stood up silently.

"Come on." He said and motioned for her to get up.

"What?" She asked and frowned, tilting her head to the side.

"You can't sleep on the couch, I can't wake you up fast enough." He stated, though he didn't give June enough information and she frowned.

"I can't take your bed." She said quietly, but stood anyways. She kept her eyes on her hands, watching them almost curiously as they continued to lightly shake.

"You're not. You're sleeping on the bed, and I'm gonna sit there and make sure you breathe through the night." At that she looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowing.

"I should just stay up, obviously my head- or I guess my soul- won't let me get sleep tonight, but you guys can still sleep." Sam sighed and walked to his bed and sat on the foot.

"We have to try something. I figure you keep trying to sleep, and I'll wake you when you stop breathing. That way you might get some sleep, or you might see enough of the dream for us to figure it out and solve it, like with Thomas." June listened intently to Sam- he did have a point. The more she slept, the sooner she might find out enough about the dreams to end them. Slowly she nodded and walked to the bed, crawled onto one side, and hugged her knees to her chest again.

"Okay, but you sleep too-" June started, but Sam interrupted her.

"No-" He piped, but she cut him off.

"If I'm sleeping right next to you, then I'm pretty sure you'll notice if I stop breathing, even if you're asleep." He stayed respectfully quiet as he listened to her reasoning, then quiet for a few more seconds as he considered it. He replied with a nod and crossed the room to turn the light off. June shifted and crawled under the blankets, and once the lights turned off, Sam returned and laid on top, staring at the ceiling. "You're gonna sleep, right?" She murmured quietly. She really didn't want them losing sleep because of her. There was nothing holding them back from getting sleep, she was the only one with the issue at the moment. Sam sighed, but a hint of a smile tugged at his lips,

"Yes, June." He said quietly and closed his eyes. She nodded- even though his eyes were closed- and laid down on her back as well.

Sam did wake her up the first time she fell asleep because she had stopped breathing, and that dream consisted of the same pale yellow and laughter. Surprisingly, she slept through the rest of the night without even regular dreams- just blissful, black, nothingness. She never thought she'd embrace the feeling of nothingness with such open arms. But then again, it was familiar considering all the times it had been an escape from many different types of suffering.


	18. Forced Fragments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frightened and fed up with the breathless-awakenings, June takes a stand and uses them to her advantage in a slightly dangerous manner.

Waiting until the light in the hallway and all sounds of movement dissipated from the other side of her bedroom door, June sat up and shoved her blanket to the side. They had arrived at the bunker two days ago, and each night she was under surveillance to watch her breathing. Sam and Dean had brought her to her room by force this night. She couldn't blame them, she looked terrible- deep purple marks lay under her eyes from lack of sleep, and her head was starting to get hazy. Sam had insisted on watching her to make sure she didn't stop breathing, but she had somehow managed to weasel her way out of his sights. Recently, the last few times she woke up not breathing, she had woke up on her own rather than Sam or Dean waking her- that was her main point that Sam had caved to. If she was waking up on her own, then it _should_ be fine for her to sleep without being watched. By now, she was simply fed up with the repetitive and slightly traumatizing pattern of waking oneself up multiple times each night because your body decided to stop breathing without consulting you. She needed a break.

She dropped off the bed onto silent feet and crept to the door, which was cracked open slightly. June poked her head out and peered down both ends of the hallway then slipped into the dark hall, padding silently to the library. Sam's laptop was there as expected, and she glanced back over her shoulder before trotting over and sitting in front of it. They boys had kept her practically on house arrest until they got a better hold on her breathing situation, but June knew waiting would do nothing. In order to get this obstacle out of the way, she needed to find the source of the dreams and get that unwanted shard the heck out of her soul. Though, the previous shard's major information had come to her through a dream, which made this time all the more difficult- she was always woken up before the actual dream actually started up by aching lungs.

She opened the laptop and turned it on, contently watching the glowing start-up screen in the darkness like a lighthouse in the night. Everything near her was blanketed with a white-tinted light from the screen, while the rest of the bunker at the corners of the room was still glazed over with the dark of night. Turning on the lamp would be too much and would risk one of the brothers coming to usher her back to bed, and the laptop wasn't bright enough for the light to reach the hallway. The laptop booted up, she opened the browser, and paused. It had seemed like such a good idea, sneaking out to stay up and continue searching for something to link to the soul shard, but that was as far as she'd gotten in her devious plans. Now staring at the glowing screen, she realized she had no idea what to search for, or where to even start. She grumbled quietly and leaned back, running her hands through her hair. She had left it down, despite the slightly unruly look of her unattended curls. She flicked her hair behind her shoulders and sat forward once more to stare at the screen.

After scratching through her mind enough that it would have been bleeding, she closed the device, crossed her arms, and laid her head on them on the table. There was not enough time in the world for her to search long enough to find something. Therefore, she needed a new plan. Thomas's information had come from a dream, so what she needed was to stay asleep long enough to get some information, something to work off of; a stepping stone.

Two plans entered her mind. She considered the idea of taking some sleeping pills- obviously not enough to be dangerous, but enough to stay asleep a little longer. But that could be incredibly dangerous when considering that she wouldn't be breathing for the time period that she was asleep, and it would probably cut her ability to wake herself up off at the knees. The other plan would be to get Sam or Dean in there with her, manage to fall asleep, and have them wake her up after a specific amount of time. Since this seemed to be the better idea, she opened the laptop once more and searched something along the lines of _'how long can the brain survive without oxygen'._ The answers that came up was: irreversible damage after ten minutes, serious brain damage after three-to-five minutes, and that brain cells begin to die after one minute. One minute seemed to be the best choice. While reading through the information, her mind wandered a bit on the topic of holding her breath- which dropped her down the pitfall of her time with her father and Heather. Once Heather had started getting a little more physical in her attacks, June found herself holding her breath while wandering the house in suspense. Would she run into Heather and knock her plate down when she rounded the corner? Would she be carrying a dangerously full bowl of boiling soup, only to have the light turn off on her in the middle of the room, or have Heather trip her? It was like walking on egg shells during that time, as if one breath too loud might create enough pressure to fall through.

She heard a soft noise, and at the same time a weight settled on her shoulder. She reacted in response to what was going through her mind and jumped off the chair, falling on her rear on the ground with wide eyes. Sam was standing on the other side of the chair with his hands up and slowly leaned over to turn on the lamp on the table. June breathed out quickly and uncurled from her spot on the ground, laying down as she calmed her buzzing nerves and head.

"Sorry; I saw you were awake, I didn't mean to startle you. You okay?" Sam asked and moved around the chair to squat down next to her. She rubbed her eyes and nodded her head simultaneously. "Mentally _and_ physically?" He added and sat down, pulling his knees up and resting his arms on them. June blinked and laughed weakly,

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You've said that while bleeding to death, fine doesn't count." He replied with a smirk and stood up, bending over to hold out his hand. She reached up and took it and he pulled her up, then she turned and jumped up to sit on the table.

"I'm just a little jumpy." She answered, watching Sam's face as it fell with a heavy look of pity. "I'm doing better than it looks," She said and prodded his arm weakly, "I think I have a plan." It was now Sam's turn to blink in surprise, and he tilted his head to the side with a curious smile.

"A plan for what?"

"To get more information on what's happening, the breathing problem." His eyes lit up and he crossed his arms, his silence her cue to continue, "I need to sleep longer." Sam immediately snorted a laugh and pinched his lips together,

"Not a very new plan. That was sort of the idea when we stuffed you into bed earlier." He said and gave her a knowing look.

"How did you know I was up, anyways?"

"Please, you belittle my abilities, I can tell when you're planning things just as easily as I can tell when a demon is lying." He said snide-fully but with a grin.

"Demons almost always lie."

"And you're almost always planning something." He chirped slyly. June snapped her mouth shut at his words and fought back a smile. She considered continuing the debate, but instead she raised her hands and shook her head dismissively,

"Fine, but my plan _is_ new. I need to _stay_ asleep longer, even after I stop breathing. I figure, with Thomas I got the information from a dream, so I'll probably get something new if I can stay asleep long enough for the dream to actually start-" She stopped mid-sentence when she glanced over and saw Sam had gone rigid and his jaw had tightened.

"No way am I going to let you suffocate. In case you hadn't noticed, breathing is sort of important." Sam stated rather loudly. His sarcasm would have been a mood-lightener, had it not been spoken with a tone as sharp as a blade. Of course they would be upset about watching her asphyxiate, but sitting around wasn't doing anything either.

"No, it's not as bad as it seems," She murmured quietly and dropped her wide, grey eyes from him to stare at her feet that were a good foot off the ground while sitting on the table. June knew that this plan was going to help, but causing tension to rise in the room caused her heart to increase to a slight panic. Her mind was still stuck in the memories of her past- if she had said something to upset Heather, she would get a lot more than some harsh words in return. She saw Sam glance at her out of the corner of her eye- he must have noticed her clamming up with eyes that could spot a quarter on the road while driving- he seemed to noticed everything. He slumped down a bit and sat down in the chair, running his hand down his face with a sigh.

"How so?" He said quietly, in response to her last comment. She locked her eyes on her feet and nervously curled and uncurled her toes.

"Keeping oxygen from the brain isn't all that bad for one minute. It only becomes really dangerous after three minutes." She didn't dare lift her eyes yet as she was still in the process of calming herself down and not giving into the urge to run away, which had normally been effective half the time around Heather. "One minute isn't that bad. All we would have to do is have you two in there, and start a timer once I stop breathing, then wake me up after a minute is up." She forced herself to glance at him, then her mind froze. Sam wouldn't hurt her, neither of the Winchester boys would. Heather is the only one who had ever hurt her- besides Adam- so why should she be afraid around him? She sucked in a quiet breath and relaxed her mind, feeling the familiar feeling of trust for him span out in her. Luckily she trusted almost a little too easily, because after all that she'd been through, most people wouldn't know how to continue trusting anyone. But Sam and Dean deserved her trust, they'd done nothing but help her, even while she was an injured stranger in an abandoned barn in distant Laramie, Wyoming.

Sam sighed quietly beside her and she pulled herself back to attention to watch him curiously.

"You get fifty seconds." He said and rubbed his hand across his face before standing. June felt a smile pull across her mouth, but it was quickly disrupted by a yawn before she dropped off the table back onto the ground. Sam gave her a small smile, and even though it was halfhearted and slightly unhappy, it was enough for June. She grinned and trotted ahead of him despite that her feet were slightly clumsy from sleep deprivation, and slowed down at her door. She looked over it once then turned around with her jaw dropped slightly-

" _That's_ how you knew," She murmured and she spotted a smile grow on his face.

"Leaving your door wide open wasn't the best choice while trying to be sneaky." She stuck her tongue out at him and slipped into her room, flicking on the light. She and Sam both flinched at the change in light levels, and June hopped up onto her bed, sitting on her pillows comfortably. She stuck her legs out in front of her and idly smoothed the dark blue comforter with her feet, the white stocks adorning them a fairly stark contrast. Sam sighed at the foot of her bed and sat down, crossing his arms over his chest. "You sure you wanna do this? We can wait it out a little while longer, see if anything comes to mind without suffocating yourself willingly." He scoffed and raised his eyebrows, pulling his eyes to watch her.

"I'm sure. The other plan was taking a bunch of sleeping pills." She said and rolled her eyes, turning away to pick up the glass of now room-temperature water and brought it carefully to her lap- spilling it on the bed would be rather unfortunate. When she looked back up she nearly did drop it, because Sam's face was so vividly composed with wide and unbelieving eyes paired with a slightly ajar jaw. June went stock still and stared back before stammering, "W-what?"

"Do you even know how dangerous that could be?" He said a little too loudly as his eyebrows furrowed. June shrunk back a little and slowly set the glass back down without breaking her sights on Sam.

"I know, that's- That's why I suggested the first one." She replied quietly and wrapped her arms around her stomach before dropping her eyes. It was deathly silent for a minute before Sam cooled down bit.

"I- I'm sorry, you just surprised me," He said and rubbed his eyes, "I'm just glad you told me, so now I can hide everything sleep inducing. It wouldn't be as big of a deal if you were breathing like a normal person." He added quietly with a sarcastic tone. June looked back up and he had his infamous puppy-dog eyes on, so she smiled lightly and fiddled with the hem of her shirt.

"When have I ever been normal?" She replied and Sam scoffed, letting a smile reclaim its place on his face. She perked up as Dean walked in, raggedly rubbing his eyes with a cranky yet tired scowl on his face.

"With all this noise, one of you better be missing a finger." He said sarcastically and removed his hands to look over the two. June smirked and ran her hand through her hair calmly, glad that the atmosphere of the room had softened. "What's up?" He reiterated.

"June's going to suffocate herself for a minute to try and get some more information about her breathing- well, not-breathing- thing." Sam explained sourly without missing a beat before June could reply. Her jaw dropped and she raised her hand.

"Sam!" She hissed with an accusatory tone and dropped her hand. "Well I can see whose side _you’re_ on." She muttered and stuck her lip out and glowered. Sam had managed to easily capture Dean's full attention with such a blunt sentence, so the older brother laughed once and looked between Sam and June like they were joking.

"Uh, no she's not." He said and laughed again, crossing his arms.

"It's not that bad, Sam's being histrionic. I'm going try and fall asleep, and one of you will wake me up a minute after I stop breathing. It won't cause anything serious to my body or mind, it only gets bad after three minutes." Dean listened with narrowed eyes as he understood they really weren't kidding before replying.

"Forty seconds," slipped from his mouth. June laughed once at the similarity of the two brothers' answered.

"Sixty." She countered and crossed her arms stiffly.

"Fifty." Sam said and stood up, clapping his hands together as he knew his vote was a good compromise. Dean shifted his feet and June sighed.

"Fine. Fifty," She said, and noticed Dean roll his eyes before he gave his own input.

"Not happening, have you even thought this through-" He started hotly, but June leaned forward and held up a finger.

"It's either this or I sneak sleeping pills home from the next food run." She bit her tongue- she surprised even herself with the bravery in her tone, and it looked like Dean was just as impressed and shocked, because he snapped his mouth shut tightly with wide eyes. He licked his lips and nodded his head.

"Alright. But if you're not okay after fifty seconds, this will never happen again." He said, being sure to use a tone that made his statement a demand rather than anything that could be questioned. June nodded her head and smiled a bit before scooting forward off her pillow and laying down. She closed her eyes before adding, "Don't wake me up before fifty seconds, no matter what." The lack of replies let her know Sam and Dean were most likely disregarding her statement, and possibly sharing silent glances at each other. Maybe it was normal for siblings to share that connection, to almost be able to communicate through their eyes- she wouldn't know, for she was an only child. Although technically she _could_ have called Claire Hankard a step-sister and gotten away with it, considering she had part of the father of Claire's soul inside her. After a while her mind began to slow down, fading off softly from her train of thought into the odd slumber that always took the place of regular dreams.

\--------------------

Sam had kept his eyes on June since her breathing slowed to show she had fallen asleep. Dean had noticed as well, and was staring toward the ground with June still in the corner of his eye. Sam sat up a bit straighter when he noticed her breathing get softer, then suddenly stop. It was eerie to see her so still, with the absence her chest rising and falling. You get so used to seeing someone breathing, that when they aren't, it rubs you completely the wrong way. Sam bit the inside of his cheek and glanced over at the clock across the room.

46, 45, 44 seconds. He tore his eyes from the clock to glance at June, then Dean. His brother as just as visibly stiff as Sam, and was staring at June, barely even blinking. So when June's hands twisted and curled up tightly into a fist, Sam stood up from his place at the foot and slipped over to stand next to Dean. Gosh, he wanted to wake her up. She was suffering, _suffocating_. Dean could sense, and probably see, Sam fighting his mind, so it wasn't much of a surprise when he felt Dean shift behind him to move between June and Sam, patting Sam's shoulder so lightly and briefly that Sam wasn't one-hundred-percent sure it had happened. Dean leaned against the wall, and Sam reverted his eyes back toward June.

32, 31, 30 seconds. June's fists twitched a fraction of an inch, and her hand moved up and rested on her chest at her throat- even asleep her body was reacting to the lack of air in her lungs and blood. Sam stepped forward but glanced down as Dean stuck his arm out to stop him. He glanced at his older brother, who had an incredibly calm face, before turning back to watch June.

25, 24, 23 22- June coughed and Dean's hand wavered in front of Sam, possibly considering waking her himself. Sam sure was. She coughed again- though it was more of her chest convulsing quickly, and Sam glanced at the clock- forty seconds was long enough. He shoved past Dean's arm- who didn't even move an inch to stop his younger brother- and gripped June's shoulder. He shook her lightly and place his hand on her other shoulder.

"June." He said loudly and shook her again. He noticed her hands uncurl a bit and tried again. "June, wake up." He spat, and she instantly sat up, Sam barely scooting out of the way in time to barely avoid her head hitting his own. She gasped and coughed, curling into a wheezing ball, making her look incredibly defenseless. Her face was a little paler than it should be. Dean walked up once her breathing wasn't incredibly frantic, less like she'd ran a mile, more than if she sprinted up a good size stair case, and placed his hand on her knee.

"You alright?" He asked and plucked her glass of water from the table, moving it toward her when she lifted her head. She coughed again and pulled her hands up to flutter at her throat, and Sam caught her face contort into a look of confusion mixed with a faint hue of fear. She nodded her head, barely visible for her chest was still heaving, and took the glass with shaky hands. She pinched her eyes shut then opened them as she lifted her head, stretching her legs out a bit more. Seeing and feeling the situation calm down, Sam sat down on the side of the bed, waiting until her breathing was slow enough that she would be able to talk. She drank some water then had to set it down for her shaking hadn't settled yet.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked and watched her carefully. The color had gone back to her face- if not more than normal, for her cheeks and tips of her ears were dusted red.

"Yeah." She said quietly with a scratchy voice. He shifted his jaw and nodded.

"Tell me we didn't suffocate you for nothing." He said with a pained voice and smiled weakly. She paused and her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes dropping down in thought. Her chest froze and Sam stiffened. "June?" He said quickly. After a second she huffed out and caught her breath. "Are you-" He started, but June spoke as well.

"Edgewater." She blurted out, her eyes not focused on anything around them, but rather, focused on her mind. She looked up and locked eyes with him, "Edgewater... something. I saw a sign." She said, her eyes now focused on Sam, then slipped to glance at Dean as well with a hint of enthusiasm. It wasn't a lot, but it was more than they'd had previously. Dean nodded and rubbed his nose, 

"Okay. But we will _not_ do that again. Understand?" Sam watched him lock eyes with June who paused, dropped her eyes, and nodded her head before making eye contact once again. Even still, the corner of her mouth pulled up a little into a fraction of a smile. How the girl finds happiness in the middle of all this crap, he had no clue- but it sure would be a helpful skill to have.


	19. Fake Reminisces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Sam and Dean following, June heads off toward the newest location they have discovered. While there she makes some elderly friends and discovers some worrisome reactions to the place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long one, sorry.

June hugged her knees to her chest as she sat on the edge of the table, idly watching Sam. He was typing and clicking away at his laptop while she silently slunk into her thoughts. She found herself picking at the dream she'd had, trying to see something she didn't noticed earlier.

It had all started with the familiar pale yellow- which by now would probably make her uneasy to ever see the color while conscious- and the laughter. Soft, then suddenly loud, like always. At first she had thought she was doing it all for nothing because everything seemed almost stuck, like it was replaying on a loop. Then she heard that ruffle of fabric she normally heard right before she woke up- but this time, she had a little while longer. The color shifted, moved before her eyes, and she realized it was a curtain, moving lightly in the breeze. Slowly, she saw the frame of the window appearing around the curtain in the corners of her vision, then everything flashed white. It was almost as if someone had used the flash function on their camera, because the white slowly faded away to reveal a portion of a sign. It was very blurry, but the word she could see definitely said Edgewater, and the start of the next word was "Ret". Then everything flashed white once again before she could read any more, this time fading to the pale yellow once again. It was almost the color of a banana after it was peeled, but with a slight tint of green in it- just enough to make it nauseating to see over and over again. Her last thought was of a banana when she suddenly jerked awake- and almost knocked heads with Sam. But when she woke up, she started to feel the memory of the dream fading. Upon Sam asking what she'd seen, she drew a blank. She remembered the yellow, the white, the laughter, and the sign- but not the word. She began to scramble- they wouldn't let her do that again, there was no way- so she _had_ to remember. As she thought, her breath caught in her throat for a second as she went to yawn, but suddenly she got a flash of the sign. Testing a seemingly ridiculous theory, she held her breath. Instantly the image of the sign came back- still blurry, but readable. It really did seem that her breathing was somehow connected. 

"I found a few things- one's a restaurant in New York, one's a golf course in Michigan, and there's a Retirement home in Iowa." Sam said with a tired voice, pulling her back to attention. They had all stayed up instead of going back to sleep, because once June had settled back down, it was already around two in the morning and she refused to go back to bed. She pleaded for the brothers to go back to sleep, but they shoved her words aside and claimed they wanted to stay up and help her dig around for any clues. As soon as Sam mentioned the retirement home, everything clicked together with the sign-  

"Edgewater Retirement Community." She blurted out, turning to face Sam with wide eyes. He blinked and glanced between her and the laptop, then nodded slowly. 

"How did you know the name?" 

"I think I saw it. But I didn't remember when I first woke up. It was on a sign," She looked down at the table in thought, her eyes darting back and forth as she scoured her head. She stopped and glanced at him, "Are their colors white and a pale yellow? Like a peeled banana?" She tossed a guess at him. His eyebrows raised and he nodded his head, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. June realized Dean had seemingly disappeared after claiming he was going to the kitchen to get a drink, and hopped down to stand behind Sam where she had thought Dean would be. There it was- the same wooden sign she'd seen. "Is there a way to see anything about the people there?" She asked, resting her arms on the back of his chair.  A poem was also displayed in a curly font on the home page;

 " _I celebrate myself, and sing myself,_  
_And what I assume you shall assume,_  
_For every atom belonging to me_  
_as good belongs to you." -Walt Whitman_

It was a nice poem, and gave an optimistic feel about the place.

"I believe so." He said slowly, finishing his words as he pulled up a new page. He hissed lightly, "Need a password, apparently they cover a lot of classified details." June scrunched up her nose and stepped back, crossing her arms. A yawn forced her mouth open and she covered it with her hand. When she looked back down Sam was smiling at her softly, "You should try and get some more sleep. I'll stay up and make sure you breathe- this time, I _will_ wake you up." His smile grew a bit and he chuckled when June sighed, letting her shoulders fall loosely.   

"It's okay, Sam. I can last a night without sleep. You said it's in Iowa? That's only," She paused and looked up as she counted on her fingers, "Five hours. If we leave here later in the day, then we can get into Iowa and spend the night there before we actually go bust in the doors of a retirement home." A shrug rolled off her shoulders then she craned her neck around toward the sound of shuffling feet. Dean appeared from the kitchen and was rubbing his eyes- he must have fallen asleep at the table. June had figured, since he'd been in there a while. When he went in there in the first place, she wasn't even sure he was completely awake at that point either. He caught her smiling at him and made a grumpy face as he walked over. Now that she was thinking about it, Dean had been the one to wake her up constantly the two nights after they got back to the bunker- so he was just as tired as she was. Her smile therefore softened a bit, but he seemed to take it as her pitying him.   


"Shut up." He muttered, then looked down at his hand and cursed- he hadn't gotten his drink after all. He seemed to disregard that and walked up behind Sam and next to June. "Find anything?" He said with obvious morning-voice then cleared his throat. 

"Actually, yeah. Pretty sure we're heading to the Edgewater Retirement Community in," Sam glared at the screen then continued, "West Des Moines, Iowa. Five hours from here." Dean nodded his head and ran his hand through his hair.

"Why don't we wait here and leave around three? That way we can get some rest before jumping back into things. We'd get there around eight, and be able to sleep beforehand." June suggested and backed toward the kitchen, waiting to turn around until she heard their replies. 

"Sounds good to me," Dean said and scoffed, nodding his grinning head. Sam nodded as well then pulled up the page that required a password to attempt to get around it. June would have to have him teach her how to do that, it might come in mighty handy someday. She turned around and went into the kitchen, getting out three glasses of milk for all of them. She would have grabbed out beers for them, but a little calcium and a clear bloodstream would do them some good. She fumbled to hold them all and carefully made her way back. She handed one to Dean quickly so she didn't drop them all, and gave one to Sam before leaning against the table with hers in hand.  

"Thanks." Sam said, and Dean gave a thumbs up because he was already drinking some. June snickered and shoved off the table, walking back toward the hallway. She figured she'd braid her hair back since its curliness had been being unruly all morning. She glanced over her shoulder at Sam and Dean, and turned around as she rounded the corner- right into Castiel. She squeaked and stumbled back, spilling milk down her front and some on Castiel's hands. His eyebrows furrowed and he made a surprisingly sad face, then gave her a sheepish smile. 

"Dang it Cas," She murmured though a smile. She glanced up at him, her blood slowing as she noticed he was staring at her with wide and confused eyes. "Castiel?" She asked questioningly, patting the wet patch on the stomach of her shirt self-consciously. 

"Your soul is different." He said, his head tilting to the side. 

"Oh, yeah. We sort of summoned Thomas, and gave his soul back to him. It kind of hurt, but it was really cool." She explained, Cas locking eyes with her with the same confused face.  

"That explains the resonating." He said, a look of understanding washing away his confusion. 

"That what?" June asked and frowned. 

"When a soul that was misplaced is put where it belongs, the soul gives off a resonating sound. Normally we angels see that after a soul that was trapped in Hell but belongs in Heaven, and is rightfully delivered into Heaven. I guess this circumstance has the same bi-laws." He nodded his head and looked at his hands, which June assumed were feeling sticky by now, and wiped them on his coat like a child. June snorted and tried not to laugh, 

"Come here." She said and slipped past him into her room. She made a straight path for the bathroom and retrieved a towel, turning around to bring it to him, only to find him a foot away. She flinched and brought her hand to her heart, which had jumped in surprise. She laughed and handed it to him, then crossed her arms casually. 

"Thank you." He said firmly with a soft smile, and wiped his hands off. He then proceeded to stand there awkwardly in silence for a few seconds before June shifted her footing and spoke up.  

"I'm going to change into non-milky clothes, you can go see Sam and Dean- I assume that's why you're here?" She said, taking the towel back when he held it out to her. 

"Yes." He said and nodded his head, then turned and left. He was an odd being. Looked human, acted mostly human, but his angelic side did show as well. Teleporting places being the most noticeable, but he was also quite innocent to sarcasm and jokes, and was simply awkward at times. He was nice, and very strong willed- June admired him for that. 

After she changed her clothes and managed to wrangle her blonde curls into a single French braid, she tied it off with a regular rubber band for a lack of the ones normally used in hair. It didn't matter, anything she used was going to get equally tangled. It was slightly messed up and loose, but it was good enough considering she hadn't braided her hair in quite some time. She actually got dressed instead of staying in pajamas most of the day, and was wearing old jeans, a red t-shirt, and a yellow and orange plaid flannel. She knew her coat from Mr. Barner was somewhere, she just needed to look around to find it. 

Upon returning, Sam turned around with a hint of enthusiasm and motioned her over. She strode across the room and peered over his shoulder curiously. Dean was nowhere to be seen, and Castiel was sitting at the table peacefully, seemingly content with whatever he was thinking about. 

"So I got into the site and created an administrator account, so it looks like I can get into some of the resident files." He pulled up a page and leaned back as he read it. 

"What are we even looking for?" June asked quietly. Sam paused and glowered for a second before sighing. 

"I'm not sure, actually. Something related to breathing? Maybe some people are on oxygen." That sounded reasonable, and June nodded her head and moved to the side to pull a chair over. 

Twenty two people on oxygen later and they were not much closer to figuring things out. They read all through each of the basic information records on the people, stared at pictures, made some searches, but nothing seemed to ring any bells for June. They gave up after a while and June made grilled cheese sandwiches for everyone- besides Castiel, since angels don't eat. Even Dean returned with the coaxing of food and relaxed with them in the Library, going through some notes of his own. By the time it got close enough to three they all split up to pack some things into the car. Because they had driven some pretty long trips recently, the five hour drive to West Des Moines was a piece of cake. When they arrived, they all took their regular sleeping locations in the motel with June curled up happily on the couch. Sam woke her up once when she stopped breathing, and she woke herself up the other two times. 

The Edgewater Retirement Community was actually a very aesthetic building, built with a nice range of tan bricks, white and red trimming, and looked incredibly inviting. There was a large pond with a small fountain in the middle, and the building was quite tall and had a plethora of windows to let the natural light in. When they arrived they parked in the visitor parking because June had a plan that would make them visitors- she was going to convince the staff that her grandmother was living there. They had picked out a woman named Eunice Reller, who had some trouble remembering faces, seemed very caring, and had a granddaughter name Alice Massner who hadn't been recognized in the visiting records. Alice was about the same age as June, and the fact that there were no pictures meant the staff wouldn't know what she looked like. Also, a picture of Eunice while she was younger showed she had curly blonde hair just like June, so genetics claimed Alice probably did as well. Sam and Dean had suggested they just go in with badges and suits, but June didn't want to bring that much attention to them. If everyone thought they were FBI agents, they would have curious eyes following them anywhere they went. 

When they walked in through the frosted-glass front doors, the smell of candles jumped right into June's nose- it smelled like one Ruth used to burn all the time. The smell reminded her of fall because of its hint of spices mixed in with the berry scent. They walked to the front desk and the woman behind the counter beamed up at them and stood from her chair in front of the computer. 

"Hello, welcome to the Edgewater Retirement Community," She recited easily, "How can I help you?" She looked about thirty years old, had her blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, and was wearing dress pants and a red shirt with flower patterned embellished on it. 

"Hi there, my name's Alice Massner, and I'd like to pop in to visit my grandmother, Eunice Reller." June replied and smiled warmly. The woman, whose name tag read Janet, instantly perked up with recognition in her eyes.  

"Oh, she will be so glad to see you- She's mentioned you a few times, but it's wonderful to see you in person." She rocked on the balls of her feet happily and turned to quickly engage in her computer. June jumped as a machine in front of her she had yet to notice jumped to life, looking like a short and stout printer that squealed a bit while it worked. Janet moved to the machine and rested her hand on top while she waited. "May I ask who your friends are?" She said casually, smiling at Sam and Dean, then returning her curious gaze to June. 

"Of course- These are Sam and Dean, my brothers in law. I thought it would be nice for Eunice to meet them." 

"Oh, that's wonderful! Though I can't guarantee she'll remember them after a while, she is having some trouble with her short term memory." Janet replied. June noted that she says 'wonderful' quite a bit; it was welcoming. 

"Yes, I heard about that, it's really a shame. That's why I'd like to try and get close to her again, her condition brought me to realize we'd grown so far apart." The machine clicked and stopped, and Janet held out a small name tag with 'Alice' printed boldly on it, then grinned as June took it. 

"How long are you planning on staying?" She inquired as she sat back down in her seat. 

"Not too long, but as long as I can." June glanced at the clock, which read a little past nine in the morning. She glanced at Sam and Dean, and Dean nodded in concurrence. Janet grinned and held a paper out- June almost didn't want to accept it, for it was that same nauseating pale yellow, but she took it anyways. 

"This is a schedule of the main activities. There's a list of the different places our residents can go- but I _think_ Eunice normally spends her time in the main lobby. There's a map on the back." She pointed at a door to June's right, "Go through there and take your first right."  

"Thanks." June chirped in reply, then followed Dean as he headed for the door, Sam following at her heels. Once the door closed behind them they turned around to gather their thoughts.  

"Okay, so now that they won't kick us out, I think I should try and get on one of their main computers. I'd have a lot more information to look at available, maybe see if anything seems off?" Sam said, but June was barely listening. The hall they were in held a long line of pictures, and one had caught her eye. It was an image of an older man, probably around eighty years old. He was sitting in what looked like a recreation room, and smiling widely. White and grey hair that was obviously thinning out covered his head, and a fair amount of stubble covered his chin and sides of his face. She walked forward and peered at the eye-level picture. She knew him. She didn't know where, but she _knew_ him, there was no doubt about it. "June?" Sam asked when he noticed her confused smile and focus on the picture. 

"I know him." She explained, and gently lifted the photo from the wall. "I don't know anything about him, but I know him." She turned with excitement in her eyes, "Do you think I knew him before I was ten?" Sam and Dean stared at her with wide and slightly confused eyes before Sam spoke up. 

"I- it could be. Or he might be the person we're looking for, for your soul." He glanced at June then walked over and pulled the picture into his hands, flipping it over, looking for a name. Sadly there was none, and June took it back into her hands to stare at the image.  

"I guess I felt like I knew Thomas as well, but not this strong." Her eyebrows furrowed and she glanced down the long hallway, her storm-grey eyes slipping over each portrait. "I know him." She repeated quietly, mostly to herself. None of the other pictures looked familiar, except a few that resembled Ruth, which was normal. She hung the picture back up, "Maybe we can ask someone- Eunice?" She offered, turning to face the brothers.   


"Sounds good," Dean replied and motioned toward the end of the hall, "You remember what she looks like, right?" He added and glanced at June over his shoulder as the group continued down the hall. 

"Of course, she's my grandmother." June said, her fake-hurt voice thick with sarcasm. Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes as they turned the corner.  

The main lobby had an overabundance of chairs; arm chairs, wooden chairs, two couches- as well as tables next to each seat. The walls were a pale green, and most of the chairs faced the center of the room. The windows were open and blinds drawn back, letting in a nice breeze and the smell of the arriving summer. A calendar sat on the small end table closest to them, displaying the date- May twelfth. There were only four people in there; three women and a man. Two of the women were sitting next to each other on a couch- one reading a newspaper and the other eating what looked like some type of pasta- and the man was in an arm chair and staring ahead in thought while a cup of something hot let up a thin wisp of steam above the maroon mug. June spotted Eunice sitting by the window and watching through it with a light smile dusted on her face. Her mind split two ways; she was instantly reminded of both Ruth and her Mother at the same time. Ruth loved to sit with June at the window under the hummingbird feeder to watch the birds, while her Mom used to spend most of her time at the window once she was paralyzed. Sam elbowed her and she walked forward. As Eunice saw her she smiled and sat up in her chair, watching as June took a seat behind her. Sam and Dean seemed to occupy themselves by wandering and inspecting the lobby. June's heart twisted- how could she lie to Eunice? Give her false hope that her granddaughter was here to visit her?  

"Alice?" Eunice said and tilted her head. Well, that makes everything immensely easier.  

"Y-yeah, it's Alice. Do you remember who I am?" 

"You're my great granddaughter." June pinched her lips together and shook her head lightly, 

"Not great, just your grand daughter, Alice Massner." Eunice's eyes lit up and she smiled widely. She tilted her head to the side and looked over June like she was the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen. "How have you been?" June added and smiled back warmly. 

"Oh, it's wonderful here, Alice. I don't have to clean a single thing, and they cook all of my food for me." She paused and glanced around the room before leaning forward with a sly smile, "There's even a few fine gentlemen eyeing me with a sparkle in their eyes just like the old days." June scoffed and laughed, covering her mouth to keep quiet. 

"Well they should be, you look really good." June had settled her mind- rather than being nervous about lying, she just wanted to do anything she could to help Eunice be happy. Her visitor's log had barely any visits, so she hadn't had anyone come to see her for four whole years. She's seventy years old, why not give her a good time? But she did also have to keep to her goals- she needed to figure out what she could about why this place was connect to her soul.  

"Oh, don't flatter me." Eunice said jokingly and laughed lightly. She really was looking pretty good, especially because of her age- of course she had all the classic wrinkles and was a little bone-y, but she didn't use a chair or walker, nor was she on oxygen or have any medical notes on the records they dug up besides trouble with her short term memory. Sadly they were only able to see the patients' current status and recent visitors, so June hoped dearly that Sam was able to get more information. She glanced over her shoulder, glad to see Sam had disappeared and Dean was talking to a younger woman in the staff. She rolled her eyes as she turned back to Eunice, who was still smiling warmly at June.  

"So what do you normally do around this time?" June asked quietly. 

"Oh, I don't know. Soon they'll be opening up the pool. Or is that Wednesdays?" 

"Eunice, it is Wednesday." June pursed her lips then grinned. 

"Oh, then the pool is closed." June blinked and frowned- wouldn't that mean it was open? She ignored that point, and nodded her head as she let a smile play across her mouth once again. 

"Would you like to go for a walk? You could show me around, I'd love to see the place." She offered, excitement buzzing into her veins as Eunice's eyes lit up. Eunice grinned with her jaw slightly open, starring at June in what seemed to be shock, 

"I never thought you'd ask," She blubbered then hovered her hands around and stood up slowly. June got to her feet first to make sure Eunice got up alright, beaming just as much as Eunice. She was reminding June so much of Ruth that it was both sad and thrilling. She held her arm out and Eunice gently reached forward to hold it for June to guide her. She was so gentle and kind. It was heartbreaking to know that her family had practically dropped her off and never came back.  

June led them back into the hallway and glanced at the paper to see if anything required them to walk past the picture from earlier, and it looked like the library was just that case. 

"What about the library?" 

"Oh yes, so many books- I don't really remember the last one I read though." June smiled sadly at the elder's words, and slowed as they reached the picture. It was crazy how much it felt like June knew him- like he was her grandpa, or something.  

"Eunice, do you know this man?" She asked quietly and pointed at the picture. Eunice looked up and walked closer, glaring at the image for a few seconds.  

"Yes, yes I know him." She nodded her head with her blue eyes staring intensely at the portrait. 

"Do you know his name?" June tried, her hope flitting even though she knew the chance was slim. 

"Eli. His name was Eli. Or was it Fin?" Her voice softened and she looked down with her eyebrows knitted together. "One of those. He always has his grandchildren here, they are a joy to have. I- I remember when your mother, she," She stopped then laughed cutely to herself, "It was when she was picking out clothes for you, before you were born. She always wanted the pinkest, frilliest dresses, but I told her 'No, you let your kid be a kid. Get the clothes you are okay with throwing away in two weeks'." She had used a mocking tone as she imitated her daughter, then laughed and glanced up at June. Her head cocked to the side and her eyes glazed over a bit. "Where were we going?" She asked, then blinked and looked around. When her eyes once again settled on June she froze, her straight face slipping into a wide smile. 

"Alice, oh it's so nice to see you, what a surprise." She murmured and moved forward, wrapping her frail arms around June's shoulders. Confusion flooded June's veins and head- it was difficult keeping up with someone whose mind was so easily scattered. She patted Eunice's back and stepped back, deciding playing along would be best for now.  

"I know, it's been way to long. How are you doing?"  

"Oh, it's so wonderful here! I don't have to clean at all, and they make so much delicious food." June sighed, her mind spinning from the whiplash of the situation.  

"That's very good." June replied. She heard someone behind them and turned around to see Dean walking toward them. He smiled lightly and stopped beside June. Eunice looked up, just noticing Dean after a second and widened her eyes.  

"Mark?" She chirped and tilted her head to the side. Dean glanced at June with one eyebrow raised. June grimaced and then gave Eunice a somewhat forced smile. 

"Uh, no, my name is Dean. I'm Alice's step brother." He held his hand out and Eunice shook it very lightly, then turned back to the picture. She looked down the row, then walked a few steps, looking over them. June frowned at Dean apologetically.  

"She's a little out of it, I guess." She murmured to him. "But she did say mystery man's name was Eli. Or Fin." Dean's face contorted with confusion and he scoffed, 

"Those aren't even similar." He said and ran his hand down his face, "Alright. Well, Sam is around here somewhere, maybe he's had better luck." Another woman appeared at the other end of the hallway- June realized it was the one who had been eating pasta. 

"Eunice, you simply must come with to the reading today- Eric has written three new poems." She said with a happy and slightly high-pitched voice and linked arms with Eunice, who simply beamed.  

"Oh, wonderful, you know he's my favorite." Eunice replied and started to walk back down the hall. The new woman stopped her gently, turning to face June. 

"Who are your friends? Don't you want to say goodbye?" She glanced at Eunice then June. "I'm Martha. Are you friends with Eunice, Hun? She doesn't get many visitors." Martha's tone was both sweet and protective as she spoke. Therefore, June nodded quickly and smiled warmly as to make her appearance positive rather than threatening. 

"Yes, my name is Alice, I'm her granddaughter. But go with her, if she's excited she should go." Martha's eyes lit up with the recognition June had seen quite a few times already today and Eunice turned around to smile at Martha. 

"Eunice is getting up there in her days, but she's as sweet as can be. It's nice to finally meet you, she's mentioned your name a few times. I sort of poke around with her, make sure she's got all her ducks in a row." She nodded and turned toward Eunice, motioning that she would follow. Martha seemed around ten years younger than Eunice, and looked so much like Ruth it almost hurt. "I should be going though, she'll go right on ahead without me- still got more spunk in her than my old dog Lulu." She smiled and waved shortly before following after Eunice. June sighed and shook her head. 

"Anyways," She said and laughed lightly as she turned to face Dean, "Should we go find Sam then? Because Eunice wasn't much help." Dean nodded and looked down both ends of the hallway. 

"Yeah, probably. Uh, you happen to see where he went?"  

"Oh." June muttered and looked around as well, even though she knew it was futile, "Not really." She said and gave him a sheepish smile.  

"Couldn't have gone far, shouldn't be too hard to find him." Dean straightened his worn leather jacket and stared down the hallway. They walked past quite a few doors that were all closed, and upon turning left found themselves in the living quarters sort of section. Most doors were closed, but the few that were open showed beds and other personal belongings. June made sure to glance in each open one, both on the off chance of seeing something that rings any bells, and because of pure curiosity. Behind every door is a new place, somewhere she'd never seen before- how is that not interesting? Dean, on the other hand, walked silently with his eyes mostly watching ahead, glancing through the doors every once in a while like they were no big deal. Maybe it was just June. 

The rooms were numbered, even numbers on the left and odd numbers on the right, going down the further they traveled down the hall.  

"You still have the map?" He asked, and June slipped it from her pocket. 

"Keep it, I hate that color now." She commented and glanced into a room. Dean raised an eyebrow and glanced down at it, barely noticing when June froze in spot. She turned on her heels and jogged back a few steps to look back at the room. There was nothing obvious that she could see, but for some reason the room had attracted her full attention. Dean stopped and looked back at her, quickly moving to look in as well.  

"What?" He asked, but June simply shook her head. Something about it was getting to her. Being near the room was throwing feels of joy as well as anxiety down her spine in nervous spurts. She poked her head in and looked around, glad that it was void of any people. She looked down at the floor. For some reason, she felt a strong hesitation to enter the room. Her mind clicked- she was feeling fear. She was _afraid_ to enter this random room, enough to pump adrenaline into her veins. "June?" Dean repeated, nudging her shoulder blade. "What is it?"  

"I don't know." She said, almost a whisper. With cautious steps she entered the room, peering around quickly. She could feel her heartbeat racing and shook her head. She closed her eyes and rubbed them. Suddenly the muffled sound of the laughter returned and she snapped her eyes open, looking around. But it had disappeared as quickly as it came- but it left trails of goose bumps up her arms. Dean had walked in beside her and was watching her with cautious and concerned eyes. She shook her head again and backed up, bumping against his shoulder before striding backwards out of the strange room. He followed her in his chosen silent state until she turned her back to the room with a scowl on her countenance. "Hey," He spat and grabbed her shoulder- she flinched, "Talk to me, what's wrong?"  

"The room, something's wrong with the room." She mumbled in a foggy daze.

"What do you mean?"  

"I don't know." Dean gritted his teeth then sighed,  

"Let's just find Sam." He said and pulled his phone from his pocket. June moved and leaned her back against the wall and her arms crossed over her chest calmly. What _was_ that? It was obviously connect with her dreams- was that Eli-or Fin-’s room? Was he even the man she was looking for? There had been no personal objects in clear view in the room.   


"Sam?" Dean said, and she could hear the muffled gibberish that resembled Sam's voice. 

"Yeah, I'm with her. Eunice was a bust. Where are you?" More babbling through the phone. 

"Alright. Got it." Dean said, a few words were mumbled from the phone, and Dean snapped it shut calmly. "He's in the library." He announced and stuffed the phone back into his pocket. June scoffed,  

"Dang, I was heading there earlier." Dean laughed and glanced at the paper before turning back around with June following on silent feet.


	20. Breathless Rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June and the boys find themselves in a rush for time when oxygen isn't plentiful anymore for June. Even when everything settles down, physical pain is trumped by emotional loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Nother long one.

After retracing their steps plus some, the two made it to the library. Sam was surprisingly behind the counter with no librarian in sight. June walked up to him with an impressed smile.

"What'd you do with the librarian?" She asked and walked beside him to look around at the screen. He was standing, therefore she definitely couldn't look over his shoulder.

"Nothing- there wasn't one." He replied with a scoff and pointed at the screen, "Did you get any names?"

"Eli. Or Fin." June recited with a slight smile- maybe they would actually get somewhere. Sam blinked a few times, 

"Those are nothing alike." Once again the brothers showed similarities. He typed in Eli anyways, and it came up with three names. Elijah Garrett, Eli Mannings, and Elijah Fink.  

"There, Elijah Fink- Fin could be Fink." She said and pointed at the name. Sam clicked it and Dean walked around to his other side to watch curiously. The page opened and the picture at the top froze June's blood in her veins.  

"That's the guy from the picture, Eunice was right." She mumbled, but much more was going on in her mind. This picture was more recent, and she was almost completely certain that he was who they were looking for. If it was even possible, she felt even more like she knew him once she saw the more recent photograph. She glanced up at Sam quickly before returning her eyes to the screen as well. 

"He passed away years ago in late November." Sam stated quite sadly and then crossed his arms to stare at the screen. 

"Are all the soul shards from dead people?" June asked with wide eyes. She'd thought maybe the first one was just a fluke, but it wasn't looking that way anymore. 

"I don't know." Sam murmured then leaned forward again. "Says here he won an award for chess here in the facility, was diagnosed with chronic arthritis, and was frequently visited by his daughter and three grandchildren." 

"The laughing, that must be them." June said with an awed and excited voice. Dean shifted on the other side of Sam. 

"You said you were born July 30th?" He asked, and June leaned around Sam to nod at the older brother. He scoffed, "You weren't even alive yet for this one either." He clicked his tongue, and his mind seemed like it was spinning. "Huh. Well, how about we get some food; Sam can nab some files and put them on his computer. We can head back later, see if we can get into the room tonight." Dean offered, throwing a glance at Sam. The idea sounded pretty good, and Sam got to work while June wandered back toward the door with Dean watching her. She poked her head into the hall for a few seconds then walked back in and leaned against the wall. Why in the world did she have dead peoples' souls mixed with hers?  

"Okay, I got Eli's files." Sam announced a few moments later and retrieved the small thumb drive he apparently had been wise enough to bring along. Dean stuffed his hands in his pockets and they walked back out and through the side door, looping around to where the Impala waited patiently for their return. They all filed in and made their way to some off-brand sandwich shop nearby. When they walked in it smelled very strong like tomatoes, and even _more_ so at the counter. They ordered sandwiches- each ironically matching their personalities; Dean's had a lot of meat, Sam's had a lot of variety as well as an overabundance of vegetables, and June's was mostly lettuce and tomatoes. She acquired the taste because those were the two main things Ruth had grown. Once sitting down, June stole Sam's laptop to read through the files herself, but ended up just looking over Elijah's portrait.

After barely eating any of her sandwich her throat was feeling rather odd, and she manage to choke twice before she forfeited finishing the food. She coughed into her elbow with her face contorted. 

"You okay?" Sam asked with a heavily suspicious tone from beside her. She nodded her head and continued coughing while Sam continued to watch her.  

"I'm fine." She croaked out and shoved the laptop back to Sam. The feeling seemed to pass and she finished her drink. Once everyone was done eating, they made their way back to the car. It was only a quarter till noon and June was curled up in the back seat yawning. She was exhausted- with so much going on recently, as well as choking every time she fell asleep, she was long overdue for some good rest. Even though she really wanted to just sleep then and there, she knew it would only be useless until they fixed whatever was causing her asphyxiation. Sam glanced at her with sad eyes as she yawned again. 

"You can try and sleep if you want, we're heading back to motel to grab stuff anyways." He offered, but June shook her head. 

"It won't do any good, let's just get this extra soul shard outta me." She mumbled and rubbed her eyes while sitting up. She closed her eyes anyways and tipped her head back, but the muffled sound of laughter entered her ears as she started to doze off. She jerked forward and pressed her hand to her ear in surprise, dropping it as the laughter faded away. Sam thankfully hadn't noticed, and she dropped sleepily from the conversation him and Dean had picked up. The next time she looked out the window they were back at Edgewater. 

"Wait, I thought we were going to the motel?" She inquired, looking between the brothers.  

"We have enough stuff in the trunk to make due. Making you wait any longer isn't going to help." Dean said and gave her a sad smile through the rear view mirror and slipped from the car. She rubbed her eyes and got out as well, following Sam to the trunk. The stuff from the last event with Thomas must have been in the same backpack, because that was all Dean grabbed. Sam snatched a knife into his pocket just in case, and they walked back in.  

The front desk was empty and they took the opportunity to slip into the lonely hall before being noticed. It seemed like the residents were mostly interested in the provided recreational activities the staff created, and the main building had a lack of activity at this time of day. They quickly headed back toward the same room, which was number 214. She yawned as they reached the door and flinched as the laughter returned. Instead of fading, it stayed; playing like background music in a fancy restaurant. She dug her heels into the carpet and stopped dead in her tracks from fear at the doorway. Dean rammed into her for he was walking behind her, and she planted her hands on the door frame to avoid entering the room. Dean stepped back and June felt a hand on her shoulder- Sam's.  

"What's wrong?" He asked quickly, looking over her shoulder into the room. The door had still been open like when they left, and everything was the same. June ignored him and stepped to the side for them to enter first and pressed her palms to her ears. The laughter was repetitive and creepy at its best, and sadly covering her ears only made it worse. Dean walked through with Sam following, checking out the room like June had seen a demon in it- which was probably what her face looked like at the moment. She walked in after them with her eyes pointed at the floor, wincing as the muted laughter got louder when she crossed into the room's threshold. She coughed, and upon rubbing her neck realized that her throat was feeling odd again. She closed the door behind them and held her breath in suspense as she turned around to look over the room. Though as soon as she stopped her lungs from drawing air, she found breathing it back in was half as easy as normal. Coughing, she pressed her hand to her throat and tried to keep her breathing even. Sam turned and froze upon noticing her actions. 

"June?" He asked quickly, then glanced at Dean- but June was staring at the floor again. Frantically grasping for information, she sucked in as much air as she could and held her breath, like she'd done earlier. Nothing happened for a second so she closed her eyes, instantly seeing the pale yellow. She snapped her eyes open as Sam shook her shoulder, and she gasped in some air. It wasn't enough though, and she leaned back against the door as her head began to spin a bit.  

"Just go, summon him." She coughed out. The boys jumped into action and began furiously placing the bowl, sigils, salt, and candles up. Sam repeated the summoning spell like he was an auctioneer at a wine charity. When he stopped, Dean dropped the match into the bowl and stepped back, both of their eyes returned to June- who was now hyperventilating. It felt like her throat was closing, but she couldn't find any signs of swelling. Her chest heaving, Sam shook her shoulder to get her attention. 

"Breathe, you gotta breathe." He repeated as she glanced up to look at him. She gave him an annoyed face then it instantly fell as an old man flickered next to Dean. Dean cursed and skipped back a few steps, watching Elijah's flickering form as it tried to becomes solid. June instantly dropped to the ground as her legs gave out, Sam crouching down next to her. She began wheezing immediately. Her throat burned like it was raw, and she looked up with watery eyes at Elijah as his form solidified. Her head spun as her breathing stopped completely, and she pulled her knees to her chest. She tucked her head between her knees, then felt Sam jump into action. He shook her shoulders, and he was probably talking, but the laughter was too loud to hear much of anything. She felt Sam trying to pry her open from her curled position and she quickly straightened up. She locked wide and pained eyes at him and pressed her hand into her stomach. Getting the hint, he jerked the pocket knife out and handed it to her. Tugging her shirt up roughly she fumbled to open the knife until Sam opened it for her. Snatching it back into her hand, she cut a line on her stomach where the previous cut had mostly healed. Instantly the laughter shut off from her ears. The same glowing white and blue wisp of energy slipped eerily from the cut toward Elijah, and as soon as it left her she felt her throat open back up.  

She gasped, sucking in every bit of air she could and relishing it. Sam was still sitting beside her with wide eyes. There was a flash and June covered her head as Elijah absorbed the soul shard and flickered out of existence back into where-ever-he-was-before. June coughed and tried to even her breathing while Dean dropped to his knees in front of her and pulled her arms from her head. 

"Breathe. You okay?" He said loudly, then glanced at where his hand was wrapped around her wrist. He hissed and turned to Sam, "Fever." He also glanced down and unrolled her shirt to cover the still bleeding cut. The three realized at the same time as her that she wasn't going to be going anywhere by herself at the moment since she was still wheezing, and Dean hauled her up to her feet and slipped his arm under her shoulder. 

"You get this, I'll get her to the car." He said to Sam, but his voice sounded slightly muffled to June. Her head was still spinning enough that she was pretty sure the floor was moving beneath her feet. Dean practically drug her from the room as she mostly focused on keeping her head up and trying to move her feet. Her breathing was getting better and as her vision cleared, nausea took its turn, curling in her stomach. She jerked herself from his grasp and doubled over, though stumbled and nearly made it all the way to the floor due to her head swimming. Dean caught her and pulled her back up as her vision blacked out. Once against she sunk into a thick pool of nothingness. Her head hurt a bit, but that was about all she could feel.

\------------------

She was dreaming. That she could tell- though it felt odd, like it wasn't _her_ dream. The familiar pale yellow color began moving and turned into a curtain. The view zoomed out to reveal the window frame, then the wall, then the room. At the same time that she realized it was the same room they had summoned Elijah in, he was brought into sight, sitting on the foot of the bed and putting his socks on. He still looked scruffy, but it looked like he shaved a few days before; even his hair was combed. He was wearing plain blue pants and a white button up shirt with a dark blue cardigan over it. The sound of feet entered the dream and he sat up with a grin as three children sprinted into the room. Then instantly jumped on him, all four of them laughing as they fell back onto the bed. A chorus of "grandpa" mixed with laughter erupted from the kids sporadically until a woman enter the room.

"Michael, Sarah. Isabelle, come on, don't break him." She stated, but a smile on her face lightened the command. The kids backed up and the boy, Michael, grabbed Elijah's hand,

"We wanna show you something, we made it in school." He said and bounced on the heels of his feet. Elijah laughed and they walked from the room.

For a while, all she saw was the room; empty and silent. The light over time got darker like the world was on fast-forward until the door opened and let light flood in. Elijah flicked on the light and closed the door behind him, a faint smile on his aged mouth. He took his coat off and disappeared into the bathroom for a short period of time before returning in a white tank top and green boxers. He shuffled around then got into bed.

The view that June was seeing from looked almost as if it was her own personal security camera, even though she knew there wasn't one in there. He laid down, rolled around a few times, and then went to sleep. Time seemed to fast-forward again until the lightest essences of dawn were trying to rise through the window as he twitched a few times. He rolled over in his sleep, his hand wavering at his throat. After a few seconds he calmed back down. At first June dismissed it, until she noticed his chest had stopped moving. Had he just _died_? Right then and there? As a knock echoed on the door through the silence, everything went solid white.

\------------------

"Ow," June mumbled as soon as she gained a glimmer of consciousness. Even before she realized anything, she felt the almost-disconnected throbbing in her head. Slowly everything else registered in her mind- she was on a bed, she was hot and cold at the same time, and it sort of smelled like mold and artificial cherries. Once she woke up enough to actually wonder about any of that, she brought her hand up to rub her eyes. She opened them and discovered they were in the motel- well, 'they' wasn't the correct word, because as far as she could tell, neither of the Winchesters were there. She propped herself up on her elbows, her mind instantly waking up due to the confusion from the lack of her friends. Once she tried to get up her head spun and she felt a tightness on her stomach that tugged at her attention. She frowned and rolled her shirt up to find a bandage wrapped around her stomach. At first she wasn't sure why it was there and tugged at it, managing to unwrap it halfway and pull it most of the way off before Sam walked in through the front door. June froze and stared at him with wide and confused eyes as he walked in a few steps before noticing she was awake. He perked up and set down the bags he had in his hands and shuffled to her side at the bed. When he noticed the bandages mostly off he sighed and gave her a knowing look. That is, until he saw the blatant and complete confusion pulling across her face- then a look of panic flashed in his hazel eyes.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?" He said quickly and looked around to room for something. June nodded her head and rubbed her eyes, still glowering in confusion. She could remember some the previous events. Going to Edgewater, her throat feeling weird, and a flash of not being able to breathe at all before everything went black- then the dream. Oddly she received the information about Elijah _after_ the event, unlike learning it beforehand with Thomas.

"I'm okay." She answered quietly and began taking the bandage off more to see the wound. Sam stuck his hand out and grabbed her wrist,

"What are you doing?" He asked quickly and gently moved her hand away.

"What is this for?" She mumbled. Her head was still quite a bit light, as if she'd put some helium in her head instead of a balloon by mistake. Sam dropped her hand but eyed her carefully as she took it off.

"You don't remember?" He asked quietly with an incredulous edge to his voice. The cut was about the same size of the last one, and she also discovered it was still bleeding. Her eyes widened and she snapped her head up to glance at Sam. He tightened his jaw and moved her hands to see himself. Moving the bandage back to her cut he stated "Hold this here," Before turning and walking toward the bathroom. June complied and pressed it on the cut, feeling the light sting it created. Thinking back, she slowly started to remember what had happened- her falling, Elijah appearing. Curling up, Sam shouting at her. Taking the knife and cutting her own stomach- then everything going silent. The main events were there, but little details were missing.

Sam returned and held out a new patch of gauze to her, which she took with a weak smile. She sat up and fixed the bandages in place before flopping back down.

"How are you doing?" Sam asked and smiled sheepishly at her before reaching out and pressing his hand to her arm. She chuckled weakly and shivered,

"You're so cold." She muttered and scrunched up her nose. Sam scoffed lightly,

"You've been knocked out, bleeding, and feverish for three hours." He explained and her smile diminished a bit. She blinked as she registered that, then looked back at him.

"Dang," Was her only response. She huffed and sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and dropping to her feet.

"Uh, June-" Sam stammered. She managed to stand long enough for him to stand up as well before she crumpled to the ground. Her head rushed and her stomach churned, but she felt relatively unscathed as she peered up at him from the ground. Sam instantly pulled her back up by her elbow and sat her on the bed again. "You didn't have air to your head for a little over four minutes. You seized _twice_ on the way here. You're not gonna be better until you get some rest. You're lucky we didn't book you to the hospital. Still considering it." He gave her a minute to let that soak in- had it really been three minutes? She couldn't really remember, but it felt like both only seconds, as well as an hour at the same time- which is just as confusing as it sounds. She rubbed her eyes and laid back down.

"Where's Dean?" She asked quietly and dropped her hands back at her sides to watch Sam.

"We had to rush you back here, I grabbed most of the stuff, but we left a little blood, salt and stuff from sigils in there. I locked the door when we left, so he went back to clean it before anyone sees it." He walked back to the bathroom and returned with a thermometer, which June took stuck under her tongue obediently. "But I think we fixed the breathing thing- You breathed fine all three hours you were out. I don't really know what breathing had to do with it, but I guess we fixed it." June whined and tapped her finger in annoyance- she knew why, but she had to wait for the stinking thermometer to hurry up in order to tell him. At the same time as it beeped, Dean came in through the door. June jumped at the mixed sounds then removed it from her mouth and handed it to Sam without even reading it.

"He died in his sleep, I think he just stopped breathing. He didn't look too pained though, so that's good." She said quickly and smiled softly. Sam frowned at the thermometer for a few seconds then nodded to show he heard her.

"How do you know?" He asked as he got up and put the thermometer back, though she caught him glance warily at Dean.

"I dreamt it while I was out, I guess." She said quietly, then glanced between the two. "What, is it that bad?" She asked quietly as her nerves riled back up. It seemed the kick of adrenaline was all her body needed, because her cloudy mind instantly cleared up and allowed for anxiety. Sam ran his hand through his hair,

"One 'O six." He said and walked to Dean. Being the smart men that they are, Dean had brought home ice and handed it heavily to Sam. Dean walked over to sit on the foot of June's bed while Sam poured some ice into a Ziploc bag.

"We gotta get your fever down. You didn't breathe for a few minutes, which obviously took a toll on you, we don't want a fever giving you even more brain damage." He said and smirked at her. Though his words were meant to be lighthearted she still felt her chest knot up, therefore sat up quickly.

" _More_ brain damage?" She stammered despite her spinning head. She heard the bag of ice fall heavily into the sink and Dean's eyes widened as he noticed his mistake.

"N-no, I didn't mean you _have_ brain damage, I just," He stammered then snapped his mouth shut, lowered his head, and raised his hands. "You don't have brain damage. Don't freak out." He said slowly, then looked up at her with a calm face. She dropped her gaze and then rubbed her forehead. She started to feel cold, therefore she whined nervously and tugged the blanket up and over her head while curling into a ball. She barely heard Sam criticize Dean;

"Now look what you did."

"I didn't mean that, she knows it."

"Yeah, because she looks _completely_ convinced to me." Sam's voice got louder and she peeked through the blankets as he walked up and set the bag of ice on the table. She slowly shoved the blankets back and retrieved the bag, smiling weakly when Sam gave her a timid smile. The brothers went back to doing little trivial tasks to pass the minutes, and eventually June held the ice to her head and calmed down.

"What do we do now?" She said into the silence. Both Winchesters perked up and turned to face her. "How many more of these stupid soul shard things could I possibly have left?" She reiterated.

"I don't know," Sam answered, "I don't think you want to- or know if it will help- but we can see if Cas can tell how many more are left, if there are any." She grimaced at the thought of the pain that went with having an angel touch your soul, and noticed Sam shy away a bit too. Signs pointed to him having that happen before, so June understood how he was feeling- it's not a pleasant experience in the slightest.

"Let's just go back to the bunker and take it from there." Dean suggested and shrugged his shoulders, "If something comes up, we'll figure it out and fix it, like we always do. There's always ups and downs, some more for others, but that's our life style, we chose it and we live the consequences." He ended his rather deep input by somewhat anticlimactically popping open a can of beer and turning back toward the gun he was stripping for entertainment.

June slept most of the way back to the bunker, and once they got inside she headed for her room, but was cut off by Sam.

"How's your cut?" He asked glancing from her stomach to her eyes. She shrugged and rolled her shirt up and tugged at the bandage.

"Still barely bleeding." She breathed out and hung her head. It's been almost all day, and the new bandage was already stained deep red. At least it was almost healed over. He nodded and let her slip away. Once in her room she shut the door quietly behind her and tossed her bag on the bag, stuffing her hands inside. Her mind was buzzing with the memories with Eunice and Martha enough to make her hands shaky and fingers fumble. It had been a while since she checked in on Ruth. As soon as she pulled her phone from the very bottom of the bag, she already speed-dialed the hospital before it even reached her ear. She curled up on her bed and hugged her knees while the phone rung twice.

"Hot Springs County Memorial Hospital, this is Cayla speaking from the west wing. How many I be of service to you?" June's mouth twitched into a slight smile at the familiar sound of Cayla's voice- she had been the nurse that always caught her sneaking in to visit Ruth.

"Hi Cayla, this is June Howe." There was an uncomfortable silence that followed her words.

"Oh June, your number changed?" Cayla said with an odd tone in her voice.

"Yeah, sorry about that, I- I switched carriers and I guess I forgot to tell you guys," June lied through her teeth- she had actually changed numbers to ensure that she would be off the radar- then bit her tongue as Cayla interrupted her.

"June, we've been trying to get a hold of you for over a month now." Her voice was quiet, and June felt her blood practically freeze over in her veins.

"Why? Did something happen?"

"Hun, do you think you could head over here?" June's heart began to flutter and she was pretty sure her cut had started bleeding again. Panic freely entered her head and she stretched her legs out.

"Why? What's wrong?" There was a thick silence for a second, which felt like hours to her.

"June, Ruth's heart gave out." Everything froze around June. Her mind seemed incapable of understanding what had just been shoved into her ears.

"What?" Was the only answer that she was able to force out. As everything clicked, her world began to fall in around her. Barriers and hopes crumbled, all her energy and strength drained out. A clear mind was swapped out with brain-fog as she sucked in a quick intake of air. "No, so she's at a- a _hospital_ , you guys are supposed t-to keep her alive, that's the whole point." She stammered and felt her breathing begin to slip into a state of hyperventilation.

"We did everything we could, Hun. Artificial breathing, adrenaline, restarting her heart- her body just became too weak, and her heart seized." The words seemed to hang in the silence. June's next breath stuck in her throat and she choked, feeling her eyes fill up with hot tears. She knew she wasn't going to be able to say much else before she broke down entirely, therefore forced out a single sentence.

"All next-of-kin and permissions I have go to Robert Alan Barner." Her voice shook as much as her hands as she ended the call and dropped her hand to the bed heavily. Screwing her eyes shut she clamped her hand around the phone, pressing her thumb into the glass screen until a sob slipped from her mouth. She sucked in a breath and chucked the phone ahead of her hard, hearing it crack loudly against the wall and hit the floor. By then she curled up into a ball again and bit her lip as tears emerged from her eyes and slid down to her chin. Why did this have to happen? She dug her fingers into her hair then pressed her palms to her eyes. Her chest hurt and her head throbbed, therefore she barely heard the knock at her door. She almost thought she imagined it until a voice came through her door.

"June? Are you okay?" Sam's muffled voice rang out. In a complete lack of words she pinched her lips together and tucked her head against her knees.

"Mhmm," She tried to mumble, but it came out in a distressed whimper. Sam of course swung the door open like there was a fire, most likely expecting danger or her being injured, and seemed to freeze at the sight of her curled up and shaking. She had been diligently trying to keep quiet, but it was obvious she was extremely upset. After a second she felt his hand on her shoulder by her neck.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?" He said quietly, but she could tell he was still slightly in shock. She nodded her head and linked her fingers behind her head and kept her forehead against her knees. He waited patiently until she pulled her head up slowly and wiped futilely at her eyes.

"Uh," She whimpered, "They l-lost my, my phone number, so they couldn't get a- a hold of me," She started between her quick breaths, "R-Ruth passed away a month a-ago." Her face contorted in pain and she dropped her head back down, letting herself sob quietly. Sam closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her, and she moved over to lean against him. Knowing he couldn't say anything to help, he stayed respectfully quiet until she calmed down a little.

"You gotta breathe." He murmured and rested his chin on the top of her head, for she was still hyperventilating quite a bit. After about an hour of sitting in silence with her fists twisted in Sam's shirt she began to fall asleep, her head nodding a few times. Sam shifted and she laid down, still curled against his arm for comfort. Not too much later she fell asleep, and Sam stayed for a half hour to make sure she wouldn't wake up before slipping away to talk with Dean.


	21. Revitalizing Examinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an attempt to get June out of her room and distract her from the heavy loss, they boys find a case not too far away, and convince her to tag along. Original suspicions are changed, and a plan of actions forms.

Two days. Two days was apparently the amount of time Sam and Dean were going to let June stay in her room. She would have preferred to spend much more time deep within the crevasses of her mind, attempting to figure out what could have possibly happened to give her such a run of terrible luck, but it seems the Winchesters were not going to allow that. She'd stayed there since the phone call, flitting about her room cleaning, straightening, reorganizing and then reversing everything in a flare of contained anger. She did spend a lot of time curled up on her bed digging through her mind, and whenever the boys came to try and coax her from her comfort zone, she politely declined the offer. Though since she refused to leave, they did bring her food occasionally, and she ate enough to be polite- but she wasn't really feeling like eating at the moment. Her mind felt like she was in a thick fog, like her brain was trying to not register the loss of June's only family. Now the boys were adamant, though.

Dean poked his head around the corner with a wide grin that even managed to awaken a glimmer of curiosity from June's cloudy mind.

"Wanna kill a vampire?" He asked, getting right to the point. He licked his lips then reverted back to his grin as he strode in and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Since Sam had left that first night, June hadn't bothered to ask for her door to be shut, and she was pretty sure the brothers kept it open so they could better know if she was alright or not. "Think we found something in Nebraska- super close. A man killed and drained of his blood and lots of broken bones." He raised his eyebrows. The drainage of blood was a pretty good reason to assume a vampire, and broken bones did suggest a fight of sorts. But June had a feeling that the brothers might be grasping at straws to get them all up and moving around. June hesitated for a second, then sighed and let a soft smile play across her lips.

"Sounds worthy of attention." She admitted and glanced up at him. He seemed overjoyed with her nonchalant answer and his grin widened.

"Yes! Alright." He exclaimed and jogged backwards toward the hall, "Come on lazy bones, we'll even go get a real breakfast on the way there." He clapped his hands together as June laughed quietly.

"Waffles?" She asked quietly and stretched her legs out in front of her.

"I will personally make them myself if it will get you to come along." He replied, then laughed quietly when June sighed again.

"Okay- but you don't actually have to cook them." She answered and slipped her legs over the side of the bed as Dean disappeared out through her door. She rubbed her eyes- even though she didn't feel any more tired than usual- and took her time getting dressed. She heard Dean's voice softly from the distance as she pulled her messy blonde curls into a rather voluminous ponytail.

"You owe me a beer." He had proclaimed with a victorious laugh.

"Don't get all cocky, I just didn't think she was feeling up to doing too much; that she needed to cope."

"Excuses, Sammy, excuses." Dean replied, his voice fading as June assumed he had entered the kitchen. She pulled on her over-sized red coat from Mr. Barner and silently padded down the hall. Sam was sitting, as usual, at the library table with his laptop in front of him. Dean wasn't in sight, so she had been correct in her assumptions. She walked over to Sam and peered over his shoulder. He jumped upon noticing her then settled down with a grin glowing on his face,

"Hey, how you holding up?" He asked and turned back to the computer, pulling up a few pages.

"I'm alright." She said quietly and looked at the reports on the screen.

"Alright." He parroted with a hint of hesitation in his voice before he cleared his throat and continued, "Well, I'm sure Dean already told you this, but a man was found dead with all his blood drained and four broken bones. Seems like he might have been thrown or was fighting back. We won't know much more until we get there, but it seems like our kind of thing." He crossed his arms and looked her over. "You ever hunt a vampire before?" Technically she hadn't, but she knew all about them from Garth.

"No, but I know enough." She said and gave him a small smile. Everything just felt weird, knowing that Ruth wasn't out there. June had even had hopes that after she got all of this settled, that she might be able to go back and see Ruth- trying to ignore the fact that Ruth would be in a coma anyways. But to have that hope taken away left her feeling empty and quite confused. When she had said goodbye to her comatose, adoptive grandmother, she had _seemed_ stable. But as June had seen recently, not a lot of things were seeming to go her way. At least she still had the brothers on her side, even if Heaven and Hell both wanted her dead; or alive to poke and prod at her unusual soul.

"Oh. Good." Sam said and stood up, about to say more but Dean interrupted him as he entered back in from the kitchen.

"Researching is a whole 'nother world from actually hunting." He reminded her, though his serious words weren't as heavy as they would have been for he was still smiling. June rolled her eyes and crossed her arms while looking between the brothers calmly.

"I'll be fine, trust me." Sam nodded after a few seconds and they disbanded to gather up supplies. June hadn't really unpacked her bag from the previous events, therefore she made her way up to the Impala and stuffed her backpack under the seat. Sam came out a few seconds later with his own bag, and opened up the trunk to make sure they had everything they needed.

"Pop quiz, kill a vampire for me." He stated and closed the trunk, leaning against the car.

"Cut the head off."

"Weaknesses?"

"Blood of a dead man in their blood system, via syringe in most situations." She'd done her fair amount of research both for herself and Garth, and had practically memorized exact sentences. You have to know what your doing- you have to be able to kill first, or _they_ will.

"Sunlight?"

"Burns, doesn't kill. Bearable, but not fun."

"Coffins?"

"Not unless they liked them beforehand." She answered with a soft chuckle and light sarcasm. All vampires used to be humans of course, but some lose their humanity more or less than others. Sam looked up in thought as he tried to remember any more questions, so June jumped in on her own. "Not two fangs like in the movies, but sharp teeth that descend over their normal teeth from the gums- easiest way to see if they're a human or vampire. Turned by blood on blood contact, not bitten- but don't get bit either, that doesn't sound fun." Sam's smile widened and he nodded his head, then perked up as Dean walked out as well.

"You said it was Creighton, Nebraska, right?" He said as he locked the door behind him.

"Yeah, three hour drive. Lucky to get one so close." Sam said as they all got into the car.

"So, where was the victim even found?" June asked once they were on the road. Dean glanced at her through the rear view window then explained,

"Side of the road." June nodded and stretched her legs out on the back seat, staring through the window calmly as she slipped away into her own thoughts.

Why did that happen to Ruth? What was June going to do now? She already knew she wouldn't be able to handle thinking much on the subject of burial or cremation, so she had passed on that job to Mr. Barner. She knew he would take care of it- Ruth and Robert went back a long way. She hated to have to shove that on him, but she had a little more pressing things to deal with at the moment, like demons and angels trying to kill her. She was actually quite surprised they hadn't seen either recently- hopefully she didn't jinx herself by thinking that.

She blinked and shifted, watching out the window for a while. After three hours she was beginning to get quite bored, and found thinking to herself was only making her tear up since her thoughts tended to linger on Ruth. She shoved her legs off the seat and turned to watch out the closer window, this time actually looking at the building and signs. A grocery store, a car repair service, a gas station. She continued watching the other building move by, reading the signs and taking in the new land rolling out before them.

When they got to the edge of town they pulled into a small dinner to get breakfast- June of course ordering the waffles she had wanted, while Sam got pancakes and Dean got something with bacon- by then she was paying more attention to Sam's laptop. She had borrowed it- practically stole- from him and had pulled up the bits of information he'd saved from the case. The man who was found was named Mark Johnsten, was thirty four years old, and worked as a forest ranger. He had a lot of stubble covering his chin and shaggy brown hair.

"So where are we going first? The morgue? Where he was found?" June quipped as she began cutting her waffles slowly with her fork. Ruth used to make waffles for them the first day of every month, and whenever they were in season she would put strawberries or blueberries on them. She jumped, realizing Dean was already talking and she had zoned out-

"-'Cause then we'll kill two birds with one stone and won't have to double back to ask more questions."

"Sorry, what?" June asked and sheepishly dropped her gaze to her waffles. Sam made an oddly suspicious look as Dean repeated himself.

"Morgue first, we'll be able to talk to the police there too." He rolled his eyes and continued eating his food.

"Who are we going as?" She asked with her voice lowered respectfully for there were people a few tables over, "FBI again?"

Sam held up a finger and swallowed his food before answering, "Probably."

"Fancy clothes?" June said with a frown- she didn't quite like them, therefore she scrunched up her nose when he nodded. Picking at her waffles she ate some, then perked up as Sam reclaimed the laptop from her that she had pretty much forgotten about. "Sorry." She said with a slight smile.

"It's fine. You feeling okay? You keep like, zoning out on us." He said then gave her a slightly forced smile- he was worried. And it was true, for the past three days she'd been a little out of it. Partially because of what happened with Ruth, but she also kept catching herself going into a sort of daze. At a loss for words she shrugged and turned back to her waffles. She could feel Sam watch her for a couple seconds before turning back to the laptop. Once everyone had eaten they filed out and made a quick stop to get some cheap yet fitting clothing for acting as federal officers.

"How does this not make you guys nervous?" She asked as they pulled into the parking lot at the police station. "If you get caught faking, that's a huge crime." She unbuckled and leaned forward against the front seat curiously. Dean shrugged,

"If you act the part, they won't even bat an eye." He said and flashed a grin before getting out. June shook her head lightly and Sam gave his own input.

"Just leave as soon as possible, and always find a way to remember which identity you used in each place, in case you run into someone who knew you." June nodded as he spoke, listening.

"You guys are crazy." She stated and got out. She was glad they had fought to get her to come along. She felt a little better while she was distracted, as if she was clearly separating her work from her personal emotions, which was helping immensely. Before they reached the door Dean added one more comment,

“Plus, doesn’t seem as bad after you _have_ been caught a few times,” and winked at her slyly. Her eyes widened quite a bit at that.

When they entered there were quite a few officers scattered around- a few at the front desk digging for some files, some walking away down the hall, and the secretary looked slightly overwhelmed. Everyone was practically buzzing- the death was pretty recent, he'd only been killed half a day ago, so everyone was working at top gear to track down the killer. June glanced at Sam with a nervous smile; if they hadn't finished the autopsy then there's no way they'd let the three of them see the body. Dean walked calmly ahead, almost as if he was trying to be a role model for June since she was beginning to get a little nervous with everything happening so quickly around them. Sam walked up to stand beside Dean, and June took her place half behind Dean. The secretary, a young woman with brown and blonde hair pulled into a tight bun asked quietly if the person on her hands-free would 'hold for a little moment' then turned to smile at them with tired eyes.

"Can I help you?" She asked, raising her voice as an officer scooted around her and grabbed some papers from a stack- it looked like some form of warrant or slip to gain permission for something.

"Federal Agent Sixx," Dean raised his own badge at the same time as Sam, "Agent Neal," He motioned toward Sam, then motioned at June as she pulled her own out, "And Agent Smith." The secretary blinked, slightly surprised, then turned and looked around quickly. A man came around the corner and she nabbed the officer's elbow to bring him over. "Lyle, these are federal agents." She said with a quiet voice- apparently she felt he would be able to deal with them better. He shifted the files he was holding under his arm and held his free hand out to shake Dean's. The three of them smiled back at the officer as he spoke.

"Lyle Kings, detective here at Creighton." Sam shook his hand as well and Lyle looked them over quickly.

"We're here to check out your vic, Mark Johnsten." Sam explained, pausing as the officer sighed and nodded his head.

"As you can see we're a little busy around here, what's your interest? I think we've got it pretty covered here, agents." June glanced over at Dean as he straightened up,

"The cause of death fits with a whole handful of other victims, we're edging toward serial killer. Just gotta cover our bases." The officer hesitated, then nodded his head,

"You'll make it quick?" He said, his voice slipping into a tired tone.

"In and out," Dean replied with a smile. Lyle's shoulders dropped a bit and he motioned for them to go ahead down the hall he had come from. June edged back precisely enough to slip behind Lyle while Sam and Dean walked in front. She pulled her eyes down to scan over the files in Lyle's hands, a smile twitching on the corner of her mouth at the sight of 'Mark Johnsten' scrawled across the tab. One of the papers was sticking out, and she could barely see half of the word "evidence" in between the other papers that overlapped it. When they turned the corner and the morgue section was in sight, she bit her lip and reached forward with a careful hand. Pinching the paper between her fingers, she silently slipped the paper out at the same time as Lyle stepped forward with that leg, so that any noise or feel of movement would appear to just be him stepping forward. She folded it over lightly and held it calmly at her side as if she had always had it, though considering she's just stolen from a police officer almost made her trip. The action had been so simple, so easy, and was fueled on curiosity alone- had he noticed, she could have put a road block in all three of their chances, at the very least. She could have gotten all of them _arrested_ \- she bit down on the inside of her cheek and stopped herself. She couldn't get it back in as easily, and might as well just go with it. Fretting now would only blow their cover.

They turned into the morgue and Lyle moved around the three as they circled the covered body on the table. Shivers ran down June's spine like trickling water as the officer pulled the white sheet-like material back a bit. June looked up and shuffled to the side where a folder was sitting open on the nearby table- the autopsy report, she noticed. She scooped it up and walked over to Sam as she skimmed her eyes through the procedures taken and findings.

"Oh, your records are a little more detailed than those acquired by our department." She said with a fake smile and nod of the head toward Lyle. Might as well sell their fake positions in the federal government when she can. Lyle sighed and shifted his footing,

"Yeah, we've been trying to keep this on the down-low, the locals are pretty freaked out. This is a small town, everybody knows everybody, you know?" He looked around then moved the folder to his other hand. "I gotta get a few things done, make it faster guys." He stated and turned, walking back out of the room, leaving the door open behind him. June instantly relaxed and jogged to Sam, nearly running into him as she held out the evidence file. She'd find a way to get it back to Lyle later, but for now they needed it.

"You steal that?" Dean said with an eyebrow raised and impressed expression. June nodded timidly then turned back to Sam as he mumbled some things aloud.

"Found at four-twenty-one AM on the side of five-three- 'O avenue." His eyes skimmed lower and clicked his tongue. "No sign of the murder weapon, found near him was two gum wrappers, one shoe was missing. Had on a black tee shirt, his thick company coat, jeans." He quieted down and read through some more then flipped it over. Dean, on the other hand, walked to the corpse and turned the head without hesitation, looking for any signs of being fed on by a vampire. Nothing there, and he pulled the sheet down and June averted her eyes- she didn't have any reason to stare at the somewhat-stitched up chest. Sam whistled and nodded his head.

"No finger prints, blood, hair, or fragments of anything for them to go on- they're running blind." His eyebrows furrowed and he handed the paper back to June, "This doesn't sound right. Dean, you find anything?" He added and walked to the table. Dean was setting the first arm down and was about to speak when Sam lurched forward and picked up the other arm. There was a bruise and some torn skin in the crook of an elbow. "What does this look like to you?" He asked and turned toward June. She stepped forward then cringed,

"Looks like he was either a drug addict or had an IV or blood draw recently." She replied then glanced up at him for confirmation, but his face was still twisted in thought.

"So either he's a junkie or something drew blood," Dean restated and glowered, "That changes things a little bit." June glanced down at the autopsy report and flipped a few pages forward,

"Completely clean toxicology, nothing in him."

"My guess would be either a vampire drew the blood to keep as a backup, or maybe a Djinn, actually." Sam said with raised eyebrows. June's eyes widened- she'd read about Djinns once. They are really old, and very dangerous. They feed on the victims' blood after poisoning them unconscious and letting them live in a dream world in their head- it sounded like some twisted version of Alice in Wonderland.

"A Djinn _would_ make more sense- I've never heard of a vampire bothering to clean up their meals, but Djinns have more common sense- scary smart." Dean said and crossed his arms. He reached over the body and grabbed the autopsy report from June, flipping a few pages back. "Wrists have bind marks." He explained and looked back at the wrists- he was right, there were thick lines of bruises where the hands were most likely bound with rope. "I'm guessing Djinn." He said, then looked between Sam and June. Sam nodded,

"I don't think there's going to be anything else here to help, unless they're hiding something." He concluded, and they flipped the sheet back over Mark respectfully. He put the report back, gave the stolen document back to June, and they slipped from the room. June half-folded the paper in her hands again, trotting around the corner ahead of the others. She spotted Lyle hunched over a stack of papers, quickly filling one out.

"Detective, you dropped this." She said and smiled warmly as she set it in front of him. He glanced up then nodded,

"Oh. Thanks." He murmured distractedly, then went back to his paperwork. There were less people in the main part of the building than before, June noticed. Sam and Dean walked to the door and Dean waved to get her attention and she strode back and walked out with them.

"Don't Djinns like ruins?" She asked as soon as the doors closed behind them.

"Yeah, the bigger the better. They seem to like abandoned buildings, places like warehouses. That's where we've seen 'em." Dean explained as they all filed back into the car. Sam quickly pulled out his laptop and rested it on his lap while searching for anything under that criteria near the town.

"So you think the Djinn just dumped the body after he was done with it?" June asked from the back seat. Dumped like trash; that's just wrong.

"Seems like it." Sam muttered then sat up straighter, "Okay, so there's two places that seem reasonable- there's an old farmhouse and barn up North of here, and there's an old storage area for the golf course that got abandoned when they expanded the course, down south." He glanced at Dean, who nodded quickly.

"We'll check 'em both out. Which is closer?"

"Golf course." Dean nodded his head and started up the Impala. June slunk back in her seat and watched out the window, barely listening as Sam told Dean some directions to get there. Rather, she was slipping back into her thoughts- and they focused on her soul. Why would she have the souls of people who died before she was even alive? It just doesn't seem possible- it _isn't_ possible, according to Castiel. It's hard enough to get a soul separated from a person's body, but to merge it with someone else's soul- that's down right insane to even consider. There wasn't a single response or guess she could make- this was completely new territory. At least it seemed like their methods of getting them out were working though- despite making her sicker each time. Hopefully as soon as they got all the other peoples' souls out of her own, she might be able to relax for a little while.

She went back to watching the buildings, and after a few minutes spotted one ahead of them she couldn't quite make out. She watched it curiously until it was close enough to read the sign- it was an antique shop called "Antiquiteez", quaint and cute with old, dark brown wooden walls. It caught her attention until they passed it, and she craned her neck around to watch it slip away. It was an odd store to have prodded her interest, but she shrugged the thought aside and continued watching. Rather than buildings, she decided to memorize the streets- who knows when she might have to get around on her own.


	22. Whiplash Perspectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon encountering their desired foe, things go downhill fast- even more so when another set of opponents appear. Even once they get away, things still refuse to slow down.

As they pulled onto the road that would lead them there, they all grumbled at the sight of the gate blocking them from getting all the way to the building. They all crawled out and equipped themselves with what they would need- Dean grabbed a machete, and luckily they had a little lambs blood left over in a jar to dip two silver blades in. A lamb's blood on silver knives were the only things that could kill a Djinn. At first Sam and Dean had held the silver blades, but as they shut the trunk and turned to walk down the old dirt road, Dean shoved his into June's hand. She raised her eyebrow,

"Don't you want it?" She asked, jogging forward to catch up since the brothers had continued walking without her.

"Nah. You hold on to that. And watch yourself- Djinns are slippery." He stuffed his now free hand in his pocket.

"Common baddie-stuff, right? Faster than humans, stronger than humans?" She asked, checking to make sure her facts were correct by glancing at Sam.

"Yeah," He replied, then nodded his head to make another comment, "Senses are strong too, they can sense fear. And telepathy to a point- they can read you to know your greatest desires or fears." Of course. Everything they go after is always faster and stronger, and normally had supernatural abilities to go along with that- Hunters really are crazy people. Yet she still chooses to live the life- though, her screwed up soul sort of forces her to interact with the supernatural.

"Oh," Dean said and glanced at June, "You already know this, but _do not_ get in arm's reach. Got it? They touch you, you're down. Don't get closer than you have to." He watched her until she nodded.

"Got it. I was always pretty good at freeze-tag." Sam snorted quietly at her remark and they continued down the road with only the sound of gravel crunching beneath them. When they got closer they all automatically quieted their approach and headed around to the side door rather than the front. The element of surprise would give an advantage that they were very eager to have. The door was a rusty red with paint chipping off, a stark contrast to the sun-bleached cement walls.

"You stick with me," Sam stated toward June once they gathered in front of the door. June nodded and Dean twisted the knob. All of their faces contorted as the hinges screeched an unhealthy noise, so they only opened it as little as possible. Slipping in, Dean glanced at Sam then turned to the right down the hall that was opened up before them, and Sam and June went straight. The place was still in a pretty good state, considering it was abandoned- the bottom half of the walls were painted a cheery green, while the other half was a surprisingly clean white. Everything had a fair amount of dust on it, but quite a bit of furniture was left inside. The room Sam and June entered seemed to be a small kitchen, like one seen in an office building. The counter was an obviously fake silver granite, and an almost empty water cooler stood near the door across from them. An old but relatively nice looking couch stood in front of them so they had to shuffle around it, and a short and scuffed up coffee table was in front of that. It was eerily silent- they couldn't hear Dean either.

Sam walked up to the door first, hesitated, and then swung it open quickly but silently. They stuck their heads out then moved forward into the main lobby. It was very open, and all the furniture had been removed from this room. The counter was to their right, and the main doors to their left. A few fake potted plants lined the front desk, and a few golf clubs were sitting on the table. June moved toward the counter and Sam moved ahead to check the rest of the room. Upon closer inspection she discovered the clubs were left behind because they hall had some form of casualty- two were bent, two more had the handles removed, and the last one didn't even have a head on it. She ducked behind the counter and poked around a bit. A metal filing cabinet was shoved under the desk, but she didn't dare open it because she knew those buggers to be obnoxiously loud whenever they needed to be quiet. When she glanced back up, Sam was across the room moving toward another closed door. Glancing over her shoulder, June noticed a door that had 'Manager' written in all capitals on the door on plastic. She turned back toward Sam and waved her hand, but he wasn't paying attention.

She dropped her hand and moved back to the door, turning the knob carefully. Luckily it was unlocked, and she slowly opened the door to peer inside. It was as black as a room could possibly get- she first she almost reached out to make sure it wasn't solid black paint. She stuck her hand into the open space and felt along the wall for the light, her nerves buzzing at the thought of touching something unusual. She sighed in relief as she felt the switch and turned it on. The light on the ceiling was dim and hummed, but it still managed to flood the small room with light. There was a desk at the back of the room with a few pens sitting on it, and to her left was another fake plant. There was a calendar still hanging on the wall, but the pages with the months on it were torn off, leaving only the cover tacked onto the white space. A wooden chair sat in front of the desk, while no chair occupied the space behind it- they must have taken that one with. She stepped inside and strayed toward the desk. As soon as her fingers brushed the surface she heard a small noise behind her toward the door, and spun on her heels with the knife gripped in her hand. She recognized it as Sam and dropped her hand, letting out a huff of air.

"I thought you were sticking with me?" He asked quietly, then looked around the room. June scoffed and glanced at the desk, then back toward Sam. But the sight of a figure stepping into view behind Sam she tensed.

"Sa-" She started, but Sam had already ducked and spun around. The man- who June didn't really get a good look at- jumped back then groped at Sam. The Winchester stepped back toward June and stuck his own knife out toward the opponent, but the man blocked it and twisted Sam's arm with inhuman speed. Sam jerked his arm, trying to rid the man off of him, and the two stumbled toward June. She instantly slashed her knife out, cutting a gash on the closest part of the offender- his shoulder. He howled and yanked Sam in front of him, his arm and eyes beginning to light up with glowing blue in the lines of an intricate tattoo-like pattern. Sam froze in place then seemed to panic, reaching up at the hands that were now wrapped around his shoulders, specifically at the one against his neck. Everything was moving so fast, that as soon as June jumped forward to grab at the Djinn's arms, Sam fell limp and was dropped. Instead, the Djinn moved forward with already glowing hands toward her and she dug her heels into the ground and backed up. Adrenaline by now was filling her veins as she tripped into the wooden chair, falling onto her knees. She looked up as he Djinn smashed his hand into the top of her head and curled his fingers into her hair. His body was covered with detailed tattoos, and he had slightly dark skin and dark hair cut in a buzz-cut. He was wearing surprisingly formal clothing- black slacks, a white shirt with a red vest and plain black coat over it. Though his sleeves were shoved up to his elbows, and proudly glowing the brilliant blue tattoos. She felt herself starting to get dizzy and jerked her hands to the one pressing down a little-too-hard on her head. She drug her foot out from under her and dropped onto her back, kicking her foot at the man's legs. He stumbled a bit but managed to keep his hand entwined in her hair. He jerked her back up and she received a hard kick to the stomach that instantly forced all air out of her lungs. She coughed and jerked her head back again as the world began to spin around her. When he dropped her she was still hanging onto consciousness for a few seconds- long enough to see his eyes widen, then narrow with curiosity as he looked her over. Great- could _all_ creatures see her soul but herself? Then everything went black.

She snapped her eyes open to surprisingly find herself laying in the middle of a field. In shock she sat up, spotting a man walking toward her. She instantly rolled to her side and sprung up onto wobbly legs as she looked over the man. Her jaw dropped and she felt her face pale- it was her Dad. He was grinning widely and held out a small Tupperware container toward her, with one in his other hand. All fear flooded out of her body and she reached forward timidly, looking at him with wide eyes.

"You done rolling in the grass? You really gotta get out of the city more." He said calmly and motioned behind her. She turned around and spotted a fence in the distance, instantly recognizing where they were- the park from her childhood. She'd only seen one flash from it, just one- and it was a memory _within_ a memory, but she knew it was the same place. Just how she knew that bushes of wild raspberries would be flooded over with their fruits, leaning willingly over the fence just the right height to be picked. As well as she knew there was a thin path through them if one jumped the fence, that led to even more voluminous bushes. "The berries aren't going to pick themselves." June looked back over her should in a daze toward her dad, and nodded in a joyous haze. She could almost feel tears forming in her eyes- she was really with her dad. "Oh, and don't you eat them all, you're mom specifically needs these two bowls filled." He laughed and walk up to her, and she followed him in an awed silence until they reached the fence. Mom? Were her mom and dad still together? And apparently she lived in the city- everything was going too fast. She stopped at the fence and watched him as he leaned over it and began pushing the ripe berries into his palm, then did the same herself. The berries were ripe enough that a few smashed in the process, and she smiled widely as she brushed them into the container. She noticed the red stains from the sun-warmed juices dripping down her palm as she reached up to grab more, and noted calmly to herself how much it looked like blood- then everything flashed black around her. As fast as everything flashed, a new sight was revealed to her- she was standing in front of a small store on the side of the road.

"What the heck?" She shouted in surprise and tripped backwards onto her butt in the gravel. She felt almost a feel of whiplash and looked around, flinching as a car drove by loudly. Her heart was racing and her head screamed with pain and confusion.

"What the heck?" She repeated quieter and slowly got back up to her feet. It was some old store, and the sign was behind her facing the road, so she couldn't see the name. Everything was silent, besides the few cars that passed behind her, and the store seemed void of people. She stepped slowly up the steps and rubbed the dirt from her hands then entered. At first sight she recognized it as some sort of pawn store- lots of old and unusual things filled the shelf in front of her. She stepped around it and felt her foot slip, then glanced down casually at the ground to find the source. She picked her foot up and froze- it was red- it was _blood._

Her stomach churned and as she looked back up, she was once against facing a wall of raspberry bushes. She yelped and jumped back, putting her head into her hands. What the heck was going on? Shaking as her breathing increased, she pinched her eyes shut and pressed her palms into her eyes, thinking back. She was in the field, before was in the store, then the field before that, then laying on the ground. Before that on the ground somewhere- where was she? She opened her eyes to make sure she was still in the park, then closed them again. Oh- the golf warehouse, with Sam and Dean. Fighting the Djinn- _the Djinn._ This was his doing. She felt everything shatter around her; her head spun, her hearing muffled, her sense of her body vanished. At first everything was black, then little prickles returned to her body.

She was standing- though her legs didn't feel weight, her arms did. She then found she couldn't move her arms- and one burned. Everything felt weak- not only her body, but her hearing and smell as well. She pried her eyes open groggily and fought to pull her chin from her chest to look around. Her first move was to look up above her- her wrists were bound with rope, then to a chain that was connected to a beam on the ceiling- that was why she couldn't move. Her eyes then moved to the pain on her arm, and she spotted a small tube taped to her arm, and followed it to a small bag. At first she thought it was something going into her, but then realized it was something going out- her blood. Panic welled in her and quickened her mind enough to give her the common sense to look around. She was in an office of some sort, with a large conference table moved against the wall, and a dim light on the ceiling. She jumped as she noticed Sam in the same helpless position, but still asleep, to her right. Dean was nowhere to be seen, she so hoped he was alright and hopefully working toward helping them. The Djinn was nowhere to be seen- at least at that second, because a moment later the door opened in front of her and he walked through. He had blood on his hands and was wiping it onto a rag. He seemed to not notice she was awake, and moved toward Sam. June went to tug at her bindings, but she found her body was incredibly weak- she could barely manage to curl and uncurl her fists.

Her movements, of course, brought the attention of the Djinn. He looked her over and smiled softly, walking toward her with a condescending gleam in his eyes.

"Who are you?" He asked with some sort of Asian accent. June blinked and tried to keep her head up as she responded with a groggy voice,

"I'm not dinner." She remarked weakly and tugged at her hands again. She could feel the tube in her arm with each movement, and focused her attention on getting it out. Though, her head felt so heavy, and she half wanted to go back to her Dad. But the fact that she might show up at the bloody store instead kept her away.

"Go back to sleep. It's better there." He said and turned his head over his shoulder, glancing at the door. That was odd- was he looking for Dean? Did he know about Dean at all? It almost looked as if he was expecting someone, which pumped a new wave of fear into her head. He locked eyes with her and walked casually across the room, leaning against the door near the wall. "You're a very interesting girl." He stated, raising his quiet voice enough to reach her ears. Her mind instantly flew to her soul, of course, but she asked anyways.

"Why?" He scoffed and shoved back off the wall.

"I can smell you, don't play dumb." He said, pronouncing 'dumb' oddly because of his accent.

"If you can explain, that'd be great," She broke into a fit of coughing and caught her breath, but he interrupted her.

"Something's very wrong with you. I saw your dreams- that's never happened before." She cringed- he could actually see her dreams? That concept felt rather invasive, but she ignored that statement.

"What do you mean?" She asked, then felt her eyes start to get heavy again.

"You're very broken, somehow. I can smell it, I can see it- but I'll know why soon enough. You go back to sleep." He said, his voice going down to a hushed tone as he wished her back to sleep. She could feel herself slipping, so he probably could as well. She could tell she'd lost a lot of blood- she sadly was familiar with that feeling- and knew she was going to black out again soon. But still she fought to stay awake, even as the pain from her wrists being tied faded into numbness, and she couldn't feel her toes scraping the ground anymore.

As the door opened again in front of her she managed to jerk herself awake a bit more. Two men walked in, looking around calmly. That was odd- Djinn normally work alone, or with a partner- who were these guys? They didn't have tattoos like him- were they even Djinns? She wanted to know, but her vision blurred, then quickly went black.

This time, everything was crazy. She got a glimpse of the park, her Dad in front of the fence, then black, then the store. She moved a step forward in the store, then was suddenly bumping into the fence. Her head was spinning with the changing and back and forth motions. At the same time, she could feel a ghost of her own body, her real body, with the Djinn. She was back in the store again, but she was on the ground, on her hands and knees. When she tilted her head up, she was on her knees in the grass, with her Dad's hand on her shoulder, saying something. At first she felt like she had fallen forward, but she hadn't moved- her real body had moved. As soon as her mind clicked to that conclusion, she felt herself wake up halfway again. She snapped her eyes open, and though it was blurry, saw someone moving in front of her, and two people in the distance.

She was laying on the ground, free of her bonds, and a person was hauling her up. In an act of panic, she weakly tugged herself out from the man's grasp- though she didn't think it through and slammed hard back onto the cement floor. Her vision flashed white when her head cracked on the ground, then returned more clear than before. One of the new men was there, and bent over to tug her up sharply by her arm. Her shoulder screamed with pain from supporting her for so long, and she barely managed to not cry out. She was shoved aside and dropped onto a chair, where she folded over limply. Everything hurt, and she realized that more as the tube was jerked from her arm. She sucked in air sharply and raised her head in time to see the unexpected sight of the other new man stabbing the Djinn in the chest. She was instantly awake, though her body was weak. As the Djinn fell to the floor, her mind was barely able to understand what had just happened- they killed the Djinn. Were they good guys? Hunters? They didn't seem like good guys. She looked back toward the one who had grabbed her to look him over. He was tall- about as tall as Dean- and had short red hair. He was really skinny, but what was there was muscle. He had on jeans and a red shirt, and a scowl was carved onto his face. He noticed her staring and stepped forward, his hand shooting out and grabbing her hair, pulling her up to a sitting position- nope, not a good guy. He glared and looked her over, his eyes narrowing, then flashing black. A _demon_? Oh crap- she really _did_ jinx herself earlier. He dropped her hair and she slumped back over, though she turned her head to glance at Sam. He was still out, and looked incredibly pale- though she probably did too. Dean was still gone. Fear marched through her body and she shoved herself up, moving toward Sam. She got a foot from him when two arms wrapped around her shoulders and drug her backward. Her own hands shot up and tugged at the demon's arms feebly. She was so weak that she could barely keep herself on her own feet- but she continued to struggle. When a knife slipped against her neck and nicked it, only then did she gasp and settle down to stand respectfully still. There was a bang behind them in the distance; it sounded like it was somewhere else in the building, and the knife lowered. The cut burned, and she could feel a warmth growing there, slower than it should have been.

"The other one?" He asked with a deep voice. The other voice cursed and she craned her neck to seem him sticking his head out the door, "Thought you took care of him."

"We were moving fast, I locked him in the maintenance closet. He was out cold."

"Well now he's not," the one holding her spat, "Fix it." He growled and jerked June, moving them both toward the door.

“Freaking Winchesters,” He heard the other demon grumble, as if their name alone was a curse. The redhead holding her dropped her and she crumpled to the ground on her knees. The other demon, who had shaggy dark hair and a thick, black leather coat on, slipped out of the room. The red haired one bent over to her face's level. "Be good." He snarled, then stood back up and moved toward Sam's limp body. June looked toward the door as the sound of something getting knocked over echoed through. She looked back toward Sam as she heard his ropes get cut, watching him collapse to the ground with a grimace. Hope flared in her as his eyes fluttered open, then it died back down as his arms were jerked behind his back and tied. His head lolled forward before slowly lifting again, and it took a few more seconds for him to lock eyes with June. He seemed to wake up a bit more and glanced around, looking up at the red haired demon as he walked back toward the door. Sam's shoulder jerked as he tugged at his bindings, then his eyes flashed back to her.

"Demons-" She started, but the demon walked over and kicked her side.

"Don't talk." He snarled and walked to the door to look outside. She coughed and stared at the ground. There was another bang, closer this time, and the demon sprinted out the door toward the noise. June took her opportunity and shoved herself to her feet, ignored the world spinning, and dropped back down next to Sam. He glanced her over with wide eyes and she reached around him to fumble at the ropes, though she wasn't getting anywhere with numb fingers. She jumped as the door, which had been left half open, slammed against the wall as two forms rolled in. In a flash of leather she recognized Dean as he brutally punched the demon on the side of the head. The demon fell and Dean stumbled- June noticed he had a gash on his leg, and his shoulder looked like it was sitting wrong. The demon kicked Dean's legs out and he shouted as he dropped, then stabbed the demon in the chest. Her eyes widened as the demon's face flashed a transparent orange, and he went limp. Dean had just _stabbed_ a demon, and _killed him-_ As far as June knew, you couldn't kill a demon, and stabbing only makes them angry. The only way she had known to deal with them was to exorcise them, which only sends them back to Hell where they belonged.

Dean got up slowly then saw them and rushed over, dropping to his knees. He tapped her hands out of the way, favoring his left shoulder, and untied Sam, who lolled forward weakly once released. June, now lacking the constant adrenaline, moved from kneeling to laying on the ground- everything was spinning again, and she still couldn't completely feel all her limbs.

"No, come on, we gotta go." Dean said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back up gently. "Can you stand?" He asked, and she nodded her head. He stood and helped her up, then slunk his arm under Sam's and heaved him up as well. Sam was still pretty out of it, but he looked around with confused eyes. He wavered a bit and Dean steadied him, then turned to June, "We gotta go. Now." He said quickly with a stern voice. June could tell something was up and nodded, following as Dean helped Sam to the door and around the corner. When they got back into the hallway they had first split up in, Sam shrugged onto his own feet and leaned against the wall for a few seconds before they all went outside. It was night, which surprised June since it hadn't even been noon when they got there, and everything was blanketed with cold darkness. The warehouse's floodlight was flickering, but mostly lit up the path to the car. Sam and June both shoved into the back seat since it was closer, both weakly leaning on any surface in reach. June missed a few seconds, because when she looked up they were already on the road.

"You okay?" Dean asked, mostly to both of them.

"Yeah." Sam croaked, and June nodded as well.

"What the _hell_ just freaking happened?" Dean said angrily and locked eyes with June through the rear-view mirror.

"The Djinn jumped us, we got cornered." June muttered, rubbing her eyes. She glanced down at elbow where her coat sleeve was rolled up and frowned- it still stung a bit, and was bruised. She noticed her arms were bruised too- she had been fighting pretty hard to get away those few times.

"But demons? Are you kidding me?" Dean said loudly, and June flinched.

"I'm not sure," June said quietly, then dropped her gaze, "You think the Djinn called them in?" She added. Sam, who previously had his head in his hands, lifted his head.  
"Your soul. I think he called them because of your soul." He said while rubbing his eyes. "I woke up once before, he had the bowl of blood, and that's the only reason I can think of that he'd call in demons, of all creatures." June's eyes widened, and she glanced up to noticed Dean checking the mirrors frequently.

"You think there's more?" She asked nervously.

"Dunno. I took one down, but got jumped. Freaking locked me in some closet," He shifted his shoulder, seeming to favor it, "Had to bust the door down. There were two with you guys, but I don't know if there were others." He glanced at her, then Sam. "Sammy, you okay?" He asked with an odd tone in his voice. Sam reacted slowly, then nodded his head. He seemed upset about something, and all June could guess was whatever he was seeing in his dreams. The thought brought June back to her own. She had been with her dad in the park- it had seemed wonderful. And had she not also visited some freaky store, it would have felt terrible to be ripped from her father once again, back to the reality of being bled out in some abandoned office. She looked out the window to try and gauge where they were, and noticed she didn't recognize it.

"Where are we going?" She asked with wide eyes.

"Hospital." Dean said through clenched teeth. June's heart dropped into her stomach and she fumbled for words,

"Why?" She finally managed. Dean shifted in his seat.

"Because both of you lost about three pints of blood, you're bleeding, and my shoulder is dislocated. I can't deal with all of this alone." He said, his voice dropping to a low and gravely tone, signifying he was rather upset. June shrunk back into her seat and brought her hand to her neck- he was right, she was still bleeding a bit down her neck. But _three pints_? That was a lot to lose so fast. They weren't normally the type of people to go to the hospital, they were fine stitching each other up on their own, but for Dean to be dragging them there it must be bad. She didn't really want to go there, she realized. She didn't want more tubes in her arm, or people hovering around her. Her mind of course jumped to images of Ruth on her bed- now apparently her death bed, covered in wires and tubes. They couldn't even save her- why should they even go? All she wanted was to go back to the bunker where it was safe.

"No hospitals." She mumbled and slumped against the window weakly. Dean glared at her through the mirror for a few seconds then visibly ground his teeth.

"You know how to put a shoulder back into place?" He asked, since Sam had pretty much fallen asleep beside her. She nodded quickly- she did know how, actually, because she'd popped her own out once and Garth had to put it back. Hurt like heck, but once it was back in it was heavenly. Dean stared at her for a few seconds then slowed the car, eventually pulling over on the side. He got out, holding his hurt shoulder with his good hand, and walked around to open her door. She glanced at Sam then got up slowly, leaning against the car to keep from falling down. When Garth had done it, he had counted to three so she knew when it was going to happen- that went terribly. She got herself all worked up and actually pulled away before he got to three, and he had to calm her down enough to try again. Therefore, she reached up to his shoulder and glanced at him when he moved his own hands.

"On three," She said, waited until he nodded, then instantly shoved it up and away from her as hard as she could, hearing it crack loudly as it popped back in. Dean cursed and jumped away, turning in a circle and slowly moving his shoulder around.

"Even Sammy counts to one." He spat then turned back to face her and looked her over with a sigh. She was wobbling lightly because she was still quite lightheaded, but he licked his lips and gave her options.

"We can go to the hospital and get both of you fixed up in a day, or we can go home and you'll be down for a few more. And that's only if neither of you get worse." June nodded quickly before really even listening- she just wanted to go back. It was safe there, warded from demons and angels, and she honestly just wanted to go to sleep. Dean sighed again then nodded, clapping her shoulder before getting back into the driver's seat. She got back into her own seat in the back with Sam, who was sitting up a bit more now and awake once again.

"Where are we?" He asked and looked between Dean and June.

"Going home." Dean said sharply and pulled back onto the road, pulling a fast U-turn. Sam nodded then glanced at June, wide eyes freezing at the sight of her neck. He sat up more and looked around, pulling a bag from under the seat. He dug up some cloth of some sort and handed it to her, and she wiped at her neck. It stung, but it seemed to mostly have stopped bleeding, and was instead just painted across her throat.

After a few seconds of silence she turned and started watching out the window for a while. It was dark, but the street lights provided enough light to see the buildings decently well. Therefore when she spotted the exact building from her dream, she slapped her palms against the window. What in the world was going on? How could it be possible that store exists? She thought she'd never seen it before, but then it clicked- it was that antique store, Antiquiteez.

"Dean, stop. Stop!" She said quickly, the car lurching forward as he slammed on the breaks.

"What, what is it?" He asked frantically and looked back at her, then out the window.

"That store, I've seen it, in a dream- I think a _soul_ dream." She said. As soon as the car stopped she heaved the door open, got up, and instantly crumpled to the ground. Her legs were weak, and she had gotten up too fast, therefore she couldn't support herself. Sam lurched over in the car and leaned out toward her, while Dean jumped out and pulled her back up. She ignored the rocks in her knees and palms and pulled her arm from Dean to walk forward. She made it to the steps before a strong hand grabbed her shoulder. Dean turned her around to face him and pulled her back a few steps toward the car. "No, it's here, we have to." She muttered, but Dean's firm gaze shut her up.

"Not right now we don't. Look at you, you can barely walk. It's closed right now- we're not going, not with you guys in this condition." He said and pulled her further back. She didn't have the energy to fight back, but refused to sit down when guided to the side of the car. "We'll get a motel, check it out when you're both better." Dean said slowly, then shoved on her shoulders. She was weak enough that she didn't have the choice but to sit down as he closed the door behind her and got into his own seat. He stared at her for a few seconds before turning around and pulling back onto the road. Sam simply watched her with a curious as well as concerned visage.


	23. Dusty Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feeling a bit better, June and the boys head out to investigate the mysterious antique store and manage to find some leads.

Good old Antiquities stood in front of June, its faded wooden walls soaked in warm sunlight. But when she looked around, she noticed she wasn't herself- in fact, she was looking at a woman. She had long ash-brown hair and her face was dusted with freckles. She had on plain jeans with some tears in them, a white tank top, and looked to be about in her twenties. She moved forward with a calm complexion- going there seemed to be a normal thing for her. She shoved open the doors, which squeaked quietly as musky smelling air rolled out of the store and folded around her. The shelves were pretty full, especially the shelf placed specifically in front of the door. It had all kinds of treasures- decorative spoons, an old radio paired with an old brick-like phone, a very, very old looking xylophone that was obviously worn well into its years, and an old toy bear. The lower shelves had smaller little trinkets, but the woman didn't really stop to look at them. Instead she walked to the counter, and only then did June notice the bag slung casually over her shoulder.

"Hi there," She said with a naturally quiet voice to the man standing behind the counter, who was short, stout, and had a rather obvious dark brown toupee.

"Howdy, Brenna." He replied cheerily for he had seemed rather bored in the previously empty store.

"I brought my uncle's revolver, like I said I would." She turned and pulled her bag off, set it on the glass counter, and pulled out an old box. She carefully lifted the lid, revealing exactly what was described- an old silver and gold plated revolver in a mountain of protective cotton. The man stepped forward and hummed a little as he picked it up with a gloved hand. The bells on the door went off and a couple walked in. They were about the same height, the man had slicked-down black hair, and the woman had bleached-blonde hair in a high ponytail. The man muttered something about a necklace before the employee behind the counter cleared his throat.

"Yes, yes it does look quite nice, and in very good condition. Though the chipped handle could do with some retouching." He seemed to fade into thought before snapping back to reality, "Oh, do you have the papers?" He asked, and Brenna nodded her head.

"Yeah, sorry, they are in my bag." She said and pried the bag open. The door opened again and an old man walked in, looking around quickly as if he was confused or lost. The owner of the store, whose name-tag said Mark, cleared his throat again.

"Hello sir, are you looking for directions?" He asked politely. The older gentleman looked ahead with squinted eyes and nodded his head very lightly, through the confusion on his face thickened. "Where are you trying to get?" Mark asked as the older man shuffled forward. It wasn't until he got two feet from the counter that he stopped in his tracks at the sight of the gun on the counter. Brenna barely had time to see a flash of something in his hand before he jerked a gun of his own up with eyes that looked almost oblivious to the world around him. She jumped back a few steps and snapped her head toward Mark, who was attempting at staying calm but failing miserably. Once the older man saw that everyone had noticed, he raised the gun a little higher with a shaky hand and shuffled back to stand in the doorway to block all routes of escape. The couple only just then figured out what was going on, and the woman screamed. Something got knocked over by them, and the jumpy old man flinched and pointed it at them- and shot, followed by the woman screaming bloody-murder. The noise rang loudly, and by then even Brenna ducked behind a shelf with wide and damp eyes. She was thoroughly shocked; her mind was barely able to comprehend what had just happened. Another shot rang out, though she could hear the elder shouting something in a different language- it seemed to be a mix between Japanese and English, but with the wrong accents for each. His voice was raspy, and shaking nearly as bad as his hand holding the gun. A third shot rang out, and pain shot into Brenna's chest.

As soon as June woke up, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and smacked her hand onto her chest where the pain flared. This dream hadn't been able to trick her as well as the other ones, and she clearly knew what she'd seen had been a dream. She was surprised she'd seen so much in one sitting, since the other dreams seemed to come back in pieces. But that didn't stop the burning sensation on her chest, nor lessen the fear that still clung to her body. She sucked in a few breathes, and looked over the room. She had remembered falling asleep on the couch, but now Dean was laying on it and June found herself on his bed- he must have moved her once she passed out. She and Sam were very weak once they got to the motel, and Dean went out and brought back tons of food. After eating as much as they could to help jump-start their blood production, they both passed out from exhaustion. Now it was barely starting to get light out, and a glance at the clock revealed it was a little past six in the morning. June figured she might as well get up then, instead of going back to sleep for more traumatizing nightmares. Walking to the sink, she quickly filled a glass of water and drank the majority of it. Apparently Dean was startled by her setting the drink down a little loudly, because he jumped to his feet with a knife in his hand. June was startled as well, and backed into the counter quite hard with wide eyes. Dean let out his breath and slumped forward, setting the blade down calmly on the table next to the couch.

"Sorry." He stated with a tired laugh and rubbed his face. June sucked in air since she had been holding her breath and calmed down as well. It was easy to understand being nervous after the djinn and demons. She timidly walked back to sit on the edge of the bed she'd woken up on. She decided not to bring up the switching of sleeping locations, and instead to dwell on the present.

"We're still going to the antique shop, right?" She asked quietly. Her side was feeling little sore for some reason, so she poked it absently as he nodded his head.

"I figure once Sammy's up we'll see what we can figure out by running down there real quick." He sat down on the back of the couch to face her, "You said you the place in a dream?" He asked, his eyes giving a glimmer of curiosity.

"Yeah, when I was drugged up on Djinn juice," June said and forced herself to stop prodding her side. "You know how they put you in a dream world of sorts?" Dean nodded his head with a grim smile,

"Yeah, been there; hated that." He commented and scoffed.

"I was in one, at first, one created off of me and my life. But apparently it doesn't work right with people who have multiple souls. I guess something got screwed up, and I started seeing glimpses of Brenna in that store." She explained, staring down in thought. When she glanced up she was able to catch Dean's eyebrows furrow deeply.

"Who's Brenna?" He asked gruffly. June sat up and smiled sheepishly,

"Sorry- I saw her last night, in that store. I think she got shot." June said the last part with a somber and slightly surprised tone. The pain in her chest had long since faded, but it was pretty obvious she'd seen Brenna die by the hand of the older man. Dean grimaced and nodded his head, then June added a bit more. "I saw her go inside, then another couple came inside, then this old man who looked kind of crazy. He had a gun, and just started shooting." Dean stared at her with an unreadable expression, but June guessed he was just processing the information. She turned to glance toward Sam and blinked in surprise to see him sitting up with his hands resting on his knees, "You hear all that?" She asked quietly, feeling slightly guilty she'd most likely woke him up.

"Yeah." Sam said and got up, walking over and running his hand through his hair. He looked a lot better than yesterday- all the color had returned to his face, he wasn't shaking, he could walk; all of course things June had as well. But still- it was nice to see they were both doing better.

They all got dressed and ate a little more before heading out there. Dean had picked the closest motel, so they were only a few minutes away.

"The owner's name was Mark, but I don't have a last name." June said, breaking the silence smoothly.

"That's alright." Sam stated and gave her a small smile over his shoulder, "I'm sure someone will know about a shooting that went on there." June nodded in response, noting the appearance of the store at the end of the road ahead of them. "You didn't happen to see a newspaper or anything, did you?" Sam added and glanced back at her hopefully. She shook her head and he shrugged. Dean still seemed a little tense- probably because they had only yesterday been attacked by demons- but Sam was acting pretty chipper today now that he was feeling better. Maybe whatever he saw in his own dream world made him a bit happier today, or something along those lines.

They pulled over on the road in front of it, since no one else was even near the place, and all filed out. The ground was dusty underneath June's shoes, and she paused to look over the place. It looked older, like it had been through a few more dust storms and rains, but it was definitely still the same store. Same name, even. She noticed Dean staring at her with a raised eyebrow and trotted ahead to catch up with the two boys as they hopped up the two steps to the door. It made the same squeals as it opened, if not a little louder, and June instantly recognized the smell. It was odd to her that she could recognize a specific smell from just a dream. Though, they weren't really normal dreams to begin with, were they?

"Hi, how may I help you today?" A young woman a little older than June said from behind the counter. The shelf had been moved from in front of the door, making the one-room building look much more spacious and welcoming. There were less objects on the shelves, and the light was growing dim on the ceiling above them. By the time June pulled her eyes to look at the woman who had spoken, she was already only half paying attention, and nodded without a verbal reply. Sam took control and walked to the counter with Dean following slowly, though the older brother glanced warily at June as she turned to look around the shop. She could barely tell since things had been moved, but she was able to discern where everyone had stood during her dream. The man was in front of the door, which had been now replaced with one that had windows in it, the couple were against the shelves to the shooter's left, and Brenna had hid behind a shelf in the far-right corner from the old man. The counter that Mark had ducked behind was still the same, though the objects that were displayed behind the glass inside were switched out with different things in hopes to sell something. A sign was hung near the window proclaiming a lot of the items had been donated to a local Museum and were going to be on display in a week. She sighed and listened in to the boys behind her.

"Hi, I'm Federal Agent Neal, this is Agent Sixx," Sam nodded his head at Dean, then pointed over his shoulder at June, "And that's Agent Smith. We wanted to look into something that happened to this store, a shooting." The young woman's eyes widened and she looked over the three, then narrowed her eyes with a hint of fear.

"I'm Annabeth, but we haven't had any incidents for years." Dean nodded at her reply,

"Yes, it's one that happened a while ago." He tried, though his voice sounded sincere. By now June was interested and had lost her train of thought, so she turned around and walked to stand calmly beside Sam. She was starting to get used to the feeling of impersonating officers of the law- which was a frightening concept.

"The employee involved was a man named Mark." June added in and finally looked over the woman. She had dark brown hair to her shoulders and was very slender at about June's height. But the most noticeable feature to June was that she felt as if she should know the girl from somewhere, like she resembled someone. She shoved the thought aside since she couldn't do much to solve the question at the moment. The woman's eyes had lit up with recognition at Dean's statement and she shuffled in place nervously.

"We did have a shooting, twenty years ago." She said quietly and folded her hands together, "The owner, Mark Maene, was there at the time. He's my father." Her voice had gotten quieter as the conversation got darker. "I don't know why it would be important, I thought they cleared that up the year it happened." Annabeth looked with wide eyes between Sam and Dean, then lingered on June. Taking the opportunity of having Annabeth's attention, June stepped around Sam to lean on the counter and gave her a soft smile to try and calm her down.

"We just came across it on something else we were working on from the past, an old robbery. We just wanted to make sure the two aren't linked, since we never caught the thief at the first location." She figured explaining what was going on would make everything less tense, since that normally helped her, and sighed in relief as Annabeth seemed to calm down just a little.

"What would you need to know?" She asked, now looking back at Sam and Dean.

"Do you know any information on the people that were there, like the shooter or the customers?" Dean started, then caught himself and explained his reasons, "It'd be good to hear it from your point of view, to give different viewpoints to jump off of." Annabeth lingered, then nodded her head lightly.

"I was only seven when it happened, I remember my mom locked up the house and told me to stay there, and she didn't come back for hours. When she got back with my dad it was already dark. He said there had been an older man who had brought a gun and hurt some people- of course now I know it was a lot more than just getting hurt." She huffed a sad laugh out and dropped her eyes to the counter.

"And what did you know about the shooter at the time?" Sam asked and stuffed his hands casually into his pockets.

"Nothing at first, but he turned out to be some old veteran. A year later they had figured everything out, I think- shouldn't you know all this?" Annabeth's voice was getting a little tired, and she was clearly getting wary of their presence.

"We just want to know things from a point of view that's not the police around here. Sometime it works, trust us- we've done this sort of thing all over the country." Sam lied elegantly and smoothly, and gave her an award-winning smile. Though, they really did sort of go around the country, doing hunts off the information those involved gave them. She only glanced at him then dropped her eyes back to the counter, drawing lines on the glass with her fingertips.

"Is there anything else you can think of about the customers?" Dean tried carefully.

"The three that didn't make it? I guess so. The man and woman, a couple, were shot first. Then another woman by the time the police got there. My dad made it out, and he said the old man was a little loopy but just walked off with the cops without a fight. My dad used to joke and call him 'the crazy old Japanese man' because he was shouting Japanese. I think," She rubbed her forehead, "I don't know, it was so long ago, that's all I can remember." She said and quickly busied herself to avoid further conversation. June paused, daring to ask one more question,

"Would it be alright to visit your father?" Annabeth glanced at them before responding quietly,

"I'm sure he wouldn't quite appreciate your visit, but if you must, don't say anything controversial, he has very strong opinions." Not wanting to bring up any unpleasant memories, June figured they'd refrain from bothering Mark.

"Thank you, really." June said and waved at her before stepping back toward the door with Sam and Dean. Once a few good feet away, they huddled to converse.

"That's _exactly_ what happened in my dream," June said with a frightened yet excited tone, "The last one to be killed was Brenna, she was the one I saw the most. This dream was _a lot_ like the one with Thomas. I follow the person, see them die. Simple." She crossed her arms and watched the two as they both nodded. Her side was still feeling sore, and she frowned and pressed her hand into it. It actually hurt quite a bit, but mostly only when she pressed on it. She assumed she probably got a nasty bruise somehow and ignored the pain by uncrossing her arms.

"I think we should go back to the station and get the files on this." Sam stated quickly, "We'll just say we have reason to think the Djinn vic visited the store." June liked the idea, and nodded her head.

"Makes sense," She started, then smoothly stopped herself from continuing because her side had started hurting again. She ground her teeth and glanced behind her toward Annbeth, who wasn't even facing toward them, then motioned for Sam and Dean to go outside. The looked at each other suspiciously then walked out with June following. As soon as they were outside she glanced down the luckily empty road and rolled her shirt up to her ribs. She barely saw Sam and Dean freeze with confusion, and then focused on running her fingers down her side. There was nothing there- no cuts or bruises, just her normal ribs. She grimaced and poked at her side for a few seconds before Sam stepped forward and tapped her hand to make her stop.

"You wanna pause the strip show for when you’re _not_ in front of the highway?" Dean said sarcastically and walked over as well. June glared at him and rolled her shirt back down, but her confused face returned almost instantly.

"What's wrong?" Sam said, somewhat reiterating what Dean had meant to get across.

"Not sure. Hurts." June explained and pressed her hand against her side. It was her left in the middle of her ribs.

"You get it yesterday?" Dean asked with worry in his voice as it dropped lower a bit.

"I don't think so, it just started hurting; I didn't feel it yesterday. Though I didn't feel a lot yesterday." She scoffed nervously and they lingered before migrating back into the Impala.

"Well if it was bad you'd be able to see it. Probably just sore from something, I wouldn't sweat it." Dean explained and started up the car. "Police station?" He asked, and Sam confirmed it with a firm nod.


	24. Double the Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the midst unexpected setbacks Sam, Dean and June have to put up quite a fight to achieve their goal, which in the ends brings about injuries and tired hunters.

The police station actually pulled through remarkably well. They barely questioned June and the Winchesters, and quickly handed over the files for the shooting at the store. They were dusty and scheduled to be moved to a different building- which held all the older case files- so they didn't mind lending them to 'federal officers'. And the information was just as helpful.

On the fourth of February an old veteran named Joe Gilroy came into the antique store at ten past eleven in the morning. He fired, unprovoked, and killed three people. Later it was decided he was suffering from severe Post-traumatic Stress Syndrome. One woman named Betty Winhold, her fiancé Mark Trusell, and another woman named Brenna MacArey were those killed, while the owner survived unscathed. June mostly ignored the others, and focused on Brenna. Brenna was twenty seven, had long pale-brown hair, freckles, and lived near the store. She was a frequent customer and knew the owner well. On that day she had brought in an old revolver to sell. She had a mother in the next state over that was her only next of kin. She died at twenty-four past ten that same day- a bullet pierced her ribs and lodged in her heart; she died instantly. At least now they had a guess on why June's side was hurting- which was good to know, because it had evolved from a sore spot to a throbbing, burning sensation that took up at least a quarter of her attention at all times.

"You said the store closes at nine thirty, right?" June asked with her hand pressed on her side, wandering around the motel room. Sam and Dean had made themselves comfortable- Sam was on a bed reading as well as watching June with concern, and Dean was sharpening a knife at the small table.

"Yeah," Sam replied and sat up with a huff from laying down on the bed, "We'll go down there at ten so we know Annabeth is already long gone. I didn't see an alarm system there earlier, so that's good." June nodded and walked across the room again, stopping at the table when Dean sighed,

"You're going to walk right through the floor pacing like that." He mumbled with a smirk and kicked a chair out toward her. She sat down loudly and pulled her knees up to her chest, watching him with her jaw clenched. For a few minutes everyone was quiet as they let the time pass, until June piped up. She had noticed the blade Dean was meticulously cleaning was the one they had killed the demon with, and felt it was time to learn that neat trick.   

"How did you guys kill a demon with that?" She asked and scooted forward to the table. Dean flipped the knife around and handed the handle to her as he spoke.

"It's a demon killing blade. Very hard to find; we got it from a demon named Ruby," He glanced at Sam, "Long story short, it kills demons. Forged specially," He pointed at the knife, "Special carvings, probably blessed- I just know it works. Actually kills 'em." He grinned and raised his eyebrows. It really _was_ something to get excited about- killing demons instead of just sending them back to Hell- that's a tide turner.

"That's awesome." June said and handed it back to him with a smile.

"I know, right?" He said and chuckled quietly, setting it down to admire it.

After an hour- which felt like days to June- they finally got up and readied themselves to leave. June was the first in the car, and laid her legs out across the majority of the back seat. When Sam and Dean opened the doors she jumped lightly from surprise- though not as much as when she heard a loud bang behind the car. She jumped up and hit her head on the ceiling, her mind scrambling. Scared, in an only half-controlled attempt to escape she managed to fall into the space where her feet should go. She slowed her mind down and replayed the noise in her head then blew out a relieved breath- it was just the trunk. She stayed there for a few seconds as she calmed herself down- it was just the trunk, that was all it was- why in the world would that scare her so much?

Sam turned around, expecting to see her sitting normally, and jumped as he noticed her on the floor.

"What- are you okay?" He asked quickly and got out, opening her door. She nodded quickly and pried herself from the hole to stand in the cold air, running her hands through her curly and now tangled hair. Sam had a confused smile on his face, so he seemed to have not seen the fear she had been infected with, but instead, saw her stuffed on the floor awkwardly. He laughed and got back into his seat, while she slid into hers quietly with her arms wrapped around herself. Now that she was calmed down, she discovered the reason of her reaction. The sound had, to her inattentive ears, sounded like a gunshot to her. Her best guess was that the fear of the gun-shot-like noise had been produced by Brenna's soul. This one was feeling more connected to her than the other soul shards. Dean got in as well, and they made their way back to the store in the dead of night.

The street lamp was on, which was helpful, and they parked the car behind the store to hide it from sight. Sam had been right because after picking the locks they found there wasn't any alarm system. It made sense- most of the items there now weren't really all that valuable, mostly just neat to look at. People recently had lost interest in the really antique items, and the store didn't have good business because it was parked rather awkwardly on the highway, so people normally just passed it by to get to their destination. Dean huffed and set the bag down, moving a mostly empty shelf to make some room for the candles and such. June walked over and watched silently as Dean placed candles while Sam put down some salt in a border. As soon as the salt hit the floor, all three of their breath was visible as a chill entered the room.

"Guys?" June asked nervously and turned around. A room getting suddenly cold was normally a sign of paranormal activity- spirits, poltergeists, and death omens. She turned to glance at them as Sam stood up slowly, then when she turned around a man was standing only inches from her face. Instincts kicked in and she swung her knife as she ducked down and bounced back a few feet to get out of reach. He flashed and disappeared, and instantly all the candles were thrown by an invisible force and smacked against the wall. All three of them stood up, Dean holding his gun up, and Sam and June both holding out bottles of salt. "What's going on?" She asked, but was cut short. The man appeared next to Dean and shoved the Winchester, who slammed into the wall with great force with a grunt. Sam stuck his hand out and grabbed June's shoulder, jerking them both to Dean. Dean had gotten up surprisingly quick and blew a bullet through the ghost. Needing some time, June dropped to her knees and made a semi-circle of salt on the floor at the wall around the three of them. Everything stopped for a few seconds, and the only thing that could be heard was their quickened breathes. Of course that didn't last long, and the man, as well as a woman, appeared across the store to stare at them with eerie gazes.   


"Those are the couple, from the shooting." Sam blurted out. At the same time the window near them shot open, and the wind picked up. Stuff fell off the shelf near the spirits, and the circle was easily demolished. Sam was right- it was the man and woman that the veteran had shot, the fiancés. They looked a little more ragged, and, well, insane, but it was them. They were in the same clothes- the girl in a blue out-of-seasonally short dress, and the man in jeans and a black sweatshirt. They flashed invisible again and June found herself pressed against the wall tightly by an unseen force. Dean coughed and dropped to his knees, and at the same time the couple flashed back into view. The woman, Betty, had her hands clawing into June's shoulder and pressing her against the wall, and the man, Mark, was actually pressing his fingers into Dean's chest, drawing blood and a pained shout from the oldest Winchester. Sam grabbed the gun Dean had abandoned and shot through Mark, then turned and immediately shot Betty. Both vanished with a shout. Dean hauled himself to his feet and shoved June.   

"Go, go." He shouted and shoved her toward the door. They sprinted, Sam reaching the door first, and slamming into it loudly. His face contorted in confusion as he shook the knob and kicked it. Dean cursed and moved forward to push it as well. Sam snapped his head around and smacked Dean's shoulder,     

"Window." They all moved back over there, Sam and Dean jumped out since they were closer.    

 It was at ground level, so it wasn't like it should be hard to get out- but as soon as June got to the window Betty appeared in front of her and the window slammed shut behind her somewhat transparent form. Betty sneered, then her face seemed to lighten up into a look of confusion. She vanished suddenly. June slammed her palms against the window and shoved, but it wouldn't budge. Sam was on the other side shoving as well, to no avail.    

"Burn the bones." June shouted, and Sam gave her a very unimpressed and angered face- he obviously didn't want to leave her behind. June heard something at the door, and saw Dean pushing against it through the window. He stopped and glanced at June then Sam,   

"It's no use." He shouted and sprinted around toward the car. Sam visibly ground his teeth then sprinted after him. June, feeling fear creep down her spine, turned around slowly. Betty was standing at the furthest spot from her in the building with her eyes narrowed.    

"How are you alive?" She snarled, and Mark appeared next to her. He, less confused and more focused on his growing anger, sprinted forward. June jumped back a few steps into the half-ruined circle and Mark dug his heels into the ground, instantly disappearing at the line of salt. Thank goodness ghosts can't cross salt lines. Betty was still glaring, seemingly froze in place.   

"Why wouldn't I be?" June replied with a shaky voice, but her mind was somehow calmed by the adrenaline rushing through her veins.   

"Because you died." Betty said and appeared a foot in front of June. She stumbled back, but caught herself before she left the circle. "You died here, and now you're alive. Why are you alive and not me?" June shook her head with wide eyes- this was the first time she'd been here, she'd never seen the place before, then only reason she was here- her mind froze as everything clicked together. Betty could see the part of Brenna's soul in June, and was connecting it as Brenna being alive.    

"What do you know about Brenna?" June asked and shifted on her heels. Her hair was standing up on the back of her neck, and cold shivers ran down her arms. The boys had better be _speeding_ down to that graveyard. Betty simply snarled and flickered away. A few seconds later, the pain in June's side pretty much exploded. She instantly dropped to her knees, pressing her hands against her side. She gasped, and jerked her head up to look around. A single form stood a few feet in front of her- Brenna. The entire building was so silent that it hurt June's head.   

"Do I know you?" Brenna asked quietly. The lack of anger in her voice was surprising. June blinked in confusion- how was she here? They didn't summon her. Her eyes grew wide at the side of red growing around the side of her shirt. She dropped to sit on the ground and pulled it up- a wound that looked exactly like a bullet wound was sitting proudly on her side. She looked up in terror at Brenna, who was shockingly doing the same. She was staring with wide eyes at her flickering form, which had a patch of growing red as well.  June pinched her eyes shut, then jumped at the sound of something hitting the window. She craned her neck around to see Sam- who had apparently stayed behind, pouring salt on the window sill and periodically shoving at the window. Smart, using salt to try and reduce the ghosts' strength. Betty appeared behind Brenna, who whipped around and backed away from her. "Leave me alone." Brenna said quietly with a deathly glare.   

"He should have shot you first, I could have gotten away, Mark and I could have gotten away!" Betty hollered and flickered away with a rush of wind. June pressed her hand against her side and looked back toward the window as it instantly flew open from Sam's pushing. He scrambled inside and shot at Brenna, who flashed away- bullets filled with rock salt; Garth had told her about those once, and boy was she glad they still had enough left. He jumped into the circle and onto his knees to inspect June. She was still curled up tightly with her hands clamped against her side. Each beat of her heart sent the pain flaring through, therefore she was trying to stay calm to keep her heart rate slow. Sam wasn't helping at the moment;   

"Oh god, what happened?" He said loudly and looked around, then tried to move her hand. June whimpered and put her hand back on her side,    

"Sam, stop." She said stiffly then flinched again, "Summon her back." He hesitated, then jumped back to his feet toward the candles and flipped-over bowl. Things seemed to calm down for long enough that she looked back over and he was reciting out the Latin for the summoning. As soon as he dropped the match, Brenna appeared in front of the circle, kneeling down with her hand on her side as well. When she opened her mouth the window shattering cut her off, and two shelves near it toppled over and smashed whatever had been so innocently sitting upon them- including the candles and bowl. Sam stumbled backwards and behind the salt line to stand protectively in front of June. Brenna moved from the fallen shelves, apparently not even dazed by the demolition, and stood in front of Sam and June with a sad expression. Her side had a growing red patch as well, but June was a little more focused on seeing much of anything since her vision was starting to get shaky. Sam raised the gun toward Brenna and stiffened.   

"Are you doing this?" He asked loudly and jerked his head toward June. Brenna's eyes grew wide and she quickly shook her head, dropping down onto her knees.    

"Do I know you?" She repeated to June. June shook her head and rubbed her forehead with her free hand,   

"I have part of your soul in m-me." She explained with an exhausted tone, then curled up into a tighter ball as her side throbbed. Sam dropped the gun and ducked down. He slipped her hand under June's knees and the other on her back and attempted to pick her up, but she whimpered and fought against him. "No, no- just, wait." She mumbled and moved her hand from her side. It was covered in slippery blood. She grimaced and noticed Sam's eye widen for he hadn't seen the extent of her injuries.   

"Did you get _shot_?" He exclaimed and gently moved her arm to stare at her ribs. She knocked his hands aside and looked around- she needed her knife, but had managed to displace it in the midst of the chaos.    

"I need a knife, I-" She started but Mark and Betty returned with angry shouts.   

"This is your fault!" Betty screeched and sprinted scarily fast at Brenna. The two women disappeared and Mark walked with cold anger to the salt circle. Wind picked up again and clawed at the salt, so Sam jerked the gun back up and shot at him. Mark ducked smoothly and righted himself as the circle broke. Sam shot again and hit Mark this time, the spirit vanishing instantly. Sam apparently had had enough and once again moved to pick June up. Brenna reappeared with wide eyes.   

"Sam, _stop_." June said with a weak voice and cringed in pain, "I have to get the soul out." Her voice had dropped to a whisper and she stared up at Sam with fearful eyes. He ground his teeth and moved his arms back to himself to pull a knife from his pocket. June quickly rolled up her shirt, whimpering sharply as it pulled on the wound on her side. Now holding the knife to her stomach she realized how quickly she was breathing, and was surprised she hadn't passed out yet- she could also see the light blue light trying to shine through the skin of stomach. She pulled the knife across the cut from last time, which had barely healed over in such a short span of time. It barely stung compared to the pain in her side, but as soon as the soul's familiar blue mist escaped through the cut, the pain in her ribs was cut in half. She widened her eyes and pulled her eyes away from watching the soul slip into Brenna's chest to prod at her own side. It was still bleeding and resembled a gunshot wound, but looked already better somehow. The luck was short lived as Sam slammed against the wall and Mark flickered, revealing him holding Sam against the wall by the Winchester's throat. Betty appeared as well and sprinted forward, but stopped in her tracks as Mark abruptly burst into flames. He cried out, then vanished- Dean had burned his bones. Betty's form instantly vanished as well, leaving Sam and June staring at Brenna. "Stop him- Sam, stop him." June muttered quickly and smacked Sam's arm. He fumbled his phone from his pocket and jerked it to his ear, but gave June a concerned and confused frown.    

"Dean, don't burn Brenna's." He said as soon as it connected to Dean's phone.    

"What?" Dean shouted through the phone loud enough for June to barely hear him.   

"Just wait." Sam said, then glanced at June as Dean's voice continued illegibly. June turned to face Brenna, who had sat down as was pressing against her chest where the soul had entered. She lifted her chin to lock eyes with June. 

"Thank you." She murmured softly. Sam went silent after telling Dean to stay on the line, then glanced between June and Brenna.

"That was the part of your soul, in me." She replied, "Now it's yours." She was beginning to feel like saying that was a normal thing to say, therefore Brenna's confused face was a bit of a surprise to June. She paused- they hadn't summoned her, why was she here? Her mind clicked, "She's wasn't reaped." She muttered and glanced at Sam then back to Brenna, "Why weren't you reaped; why did you stay here?" She asked, and Brenna looked down at the floor solemnly before sitting down with her legs crossed.    

"I don't know. I wasn't ready to leave, I wanted to stay." Brenna stated, finally bringing her eyes back up to watch June, before glancing nervously at Sam. June winced and adjusted her hand against her side, for it was still sending some pain across her chest. Brenna's eyes widened and she pressed her hand against her own side, finally connecting that they had the same wound.  The wound was because of Brenna for sure now. 

"It's because she wasn't reaped, that's why I'm like this." June explained and snapped her head to stare at Sam with her mouth hanging lightly ajar, "That why the effect is s-strong." Sam nodded his hand and she could see him visibly make the connection in his head. She turned back to Brenna and shifted her hands against her side. 

"I'm sorry." Brenna murmured and stared at June's side in shock.

"It's okay," June said and laughed weakly before sighing. This soul shard seemed to be going pretty calmly, which was a nice relief. Well, not counting the two vengeful spirits.

Sam picked up the phone after a few seconds,

"Okay, Dean, do it." He said quietly and June smiled weakly at Brenna. Brenna smiled a tiny bit in return, then flashed into flames before vanishing completely. Where _did_ ghosts go after hunters burned their bones? If they are reaped by a reaper, they go to either Heaven or Hell, but if they chose to stay on Earth they are supposed to stay forever. Do they just disappear, nothing left? Questions rattled through her head until Sam stood back up and helped June back onto her feet. She swayed a little and Sam glanced back down at where his hand was holding her upper arm. "Fever." He said solemnly then sighed. June leaned back against the wall and watched as Sam attempted to try and clean what he could to erase the evidence of them breaking in- and sort of destroying some things. She glanced down where she still had her hand against her side. It hurt a lot less, and wasn't bleeding as much, but it still didn't feel good at all. Her vision swam a bit, and apparently she swayed on her feet because Sam loped over and placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

"I'm fine." She murmured and smiled weakly. Sam frowned and dipped his head down. 

"Dean will take a little while to fix the graves, you gonna make it?" He asked and crossed his arms over his chest. June nodded weakly, then slipped her coat off her arms and held it against her side for the wait.


	25. Induced Hysteria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go downhill as June develops new and incredibly concerning symptoms. Emotions rise and June goes into a state of panic.

"Stop that." Sam snapped quietly, pulling June from her train of thought to look over at him with wide eyes. "Don't pull on that." He said and motioned toward June's side. She looked down- she had subconsciously scrunched her shirt up and been tugging at the bandages wrapped around her side. She sighed and pulled her shirt down, resting her elbows on the table and laying her chin on her fists. Sam turned back to the book he had been flipping through and writing notes from, and Dean was somewhere else in the bunker out of sight. Running her hand across her forehead she confirmed she still had a fever after two days- Sam gave her a deadline of five days with a fever in the hundreds before he brought her to the hospital or threw her is a large tub of ice. She sighed then it turned into a yawn. The past two nights she'd had nightmares- but only normal ones like she used to have. Situations such as Heather abusing her, the car accident, and her time spent with Adam. She sneered even just thinking of his name. June stood up slowly from her seat at the table in the library and stretched.

"I'm going to bed." She proclaimed, and Sam nodded his head then glanced at the clock,

"At six thirty?" He said and raised his eyebrows.

"Yup." June said and clicked her tongue before silently shuffling into her bedroom. She sat down on the foot of her bed and laid back, staring at the ceiling. She heard something get knocked over somewhere in the bunker, then Dean cursing quietly and talking to someone. Her curiosity got the best of her and she got up with a tired groan, then walked back into the hall and peeked around the corner. Castiel was there, watching curiously over Sam's shoulder at what he was doing while Sam's face displayed an annoyed expression that the angel couldn't see- or didn’t connect to his snooping. The corners of her mouth pulled into a smile; they hadn't seen Castiel for a while. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get any words out his head snapped around toward her with wide eyes.

"You've changed." He blurted out and walked over to her with his head cocked to the side. "And you're injured." He said quieter and his eyebrows furrowed.

"What do you mean by changed?" June asked nervously then brushed her hand against a side, "And I got shot, but technically not really." She added and smiled sadly. 

"Your soul, the extras, are mostly gone." Without warning he raised his hand and pressed it against her forehead. But having years of being abused and currently reliving it through nightmares, she flinched and ducked away. Castiel frowned and his hand wavered, still held in the air. "I'm not going to hurt you." He said quietly as his confused expression deepened. June relaxed and crossed her arms across her chest then stepped back toward him warily. Of course she knew he wouldn't hurt her, he'd done nothing but help her in every situation; but having someone reach out at her so suddenly is bound to make her flinch away. He pressed his middle and pointer fingers on her forehead very gingerly. She felt a warmth generate there, then seep down into her, feeling deep enough to soak into her bones. It lasted barely long enough for her to register the feeling before he dropped his hand and turned back toward the boys with a confused face and wide eyes. June blinked and moved her hand to her side, then rolled her shirt up and picked at the bandages- the wound on her side was miraculously gone, though the cut on her stomach from releasing the soul was  _still_  refusing to be healed. "The previous soul you removed from hers- was it different than others?" He asked out of the blue. Sam and Dean's faces echoed each other’s with confusion and June wandered to the table as well with her arms wrapped nervously around her stomach.

"In what way?" June asked before either Winchester could answer.

"Your injuries and ill symptoms were the greatest extent I have healed you of," Castiel explained solemnly with a blank expression, “I could only heal your major wound without triggering other angels to your location.” Dean turned and glanced at June, who had sat down and was nervously fiddling with a pencil on the table. If all these things were hurting her more each time, at what point should they stop? Is it worth the symptoms they give? At the moment, all of injuries and fevers go away on their own after a while, but what if they go too far and something irreversible happens? The entire act of discovering the new symptoms, finding the person, and releasing the soul had become a habit that they hadn’t stopped to think about since the first time.

"It did affect her a bit more," Sam confirmed and glanced at her before returning his gaze toward Castiel, "We assumed it was because Brenna's soul hadn't been reaped." Castiel listened carefully then pursed his lips,

"That would make sense. But something still doesn't feel right." He turned and watched June as she spun the pencil in her hands.

"How many more are with my soul?" She asked quietly, giving Castiel her full attention. He watched her for a few seconds before answering bluntly,

"One." June sat up straighter in her chair and responded with a new-found bit of hope,

"Well that's good, we'll just get the last one out and we're good to go." She snapped her eyes over to Sam and Dean, who were both sitting across from her at the table, and her movement brought both of their gazes to meet hers.

"What about what Cas just said? Each time we do this, you've gotten worse." Sam said stiffly with worry dripping from his words. His words reminded her of the fever that she could feel radiating off her body, but she dismissed the urge to fret.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there." June said and smiled lightly, getting up from her seat and crossing her arms, "Cas, do you think there is anything you can do to help me figure out more about whose the soul is?" She asked and rolled onto the balls of her feet. If they just get this last one done and over with, then they won't ever have to deal with it again- and to be honest, she was getting very fed up with having the deaths of _other people_ ravaging _her_ mind and injuring _her_ body.

"I am not sure. In the past I was only able to retrieve information that was already present from a dream you'd had. Reading your soul did not do much, and I don't quite think you'd want to do that again. I was unable to heal the wound on your stomach, and I'm afraid weakening your soul at all would only slow the healing process." He spoke rather fast, the only sign that he was getting worried, because he always had either a confused or straight face on. June shrugged, though she was disappointed- she didn't really want to wait for traumatizing dreams or symptoms, and so far they hadn't come yet. 

"That's okay, I was just curious." She said pulled her hand up to mess with the bun her messy curls had been pulled into, "I guess I'll go to bed early and see if anything happens- that's where I was headed earlier anyways." She added, though her sentence was broken at the end by a yawn. She laughed lightly, and caught Sam smile at seeing her laugh. It had been a while since any of them had really laughed much, because of how much negative things and bouts of bad luck that seemed to follow them. Maybe she'd come up with something fun they could all do some time soon, after this is all over, so everyone can just have a break from all of this morose-stuff. Castiel nodded and turned back to Sam, and June didn't bother to listen much as he asked questions about what he was reading, but instead made her way back to her room. When she reached the hall she did hear a few words from Castiel though,

"The angels are still divided," reached her ears before she got out of hearing range. She furrowed her eyebrows- Castiel never really talked about what was going on around June, but she knew it was because it was normally something about her, sadly. A lot of angels fell into the same opinion category of the first angel she met- that June was an abnormality that shouldn't exist. Souls are not meant to be merged with others, and if Hell got their hands on her and discovered how it happened, they would gain an incredible amount of strength. She rubbed her eyes and crawled onto her bed, curling up in the middle. They had decided to stay cooped up at the bunker until anything happened with June, because it was really the only place protected from the demons and angels. She pressed her face into her hands and sighed- it wasn't all that long ago that she was just a normal kid, going to school, doing homework, playing in the park; then everything changed because of one house fire. As she sank deeper into her thoughts, she found herself lingering on the call from that demon, Adam, that day. Had he set the fire, planned it somehow? Because he knew of it beforehand- was he really a high enough rank to be able to possess pyrotechnic abilities  _and_  teleportation? It was terrifying to consider that even the high ranked angels and demons would stoop from their high positions to scramble into the race to catch her. 

It wasn't long before she fell asleep that she went into the familiar process of reliving her traumatic events as a child- her mother shooting them both, then Heather, then the fire.

Suddenly she sat up in her bed, her mind snapping awake for her throat felt like it was being constricted. She ran her hands along her neck, and after a few seconds it disappeared- that was new. When she looked at the clock it was about two in the morning and she sighed, rubbing her face. Not  _another_  thing that didn't allow her to sleep; she'd already had to deal with that when it came to Elijah's soul. She got up and walked across her room. She'd meant to go down the hall and get something to drink, but she had glanced in the mirror and froze as something didn't look normal. She couldn't tell because the light was off, so she stumbled to the light and flicked it on, temporarily blinding her until her eyes adjusted. June turned back to face the mirror and froze- She had bruises around her neck. 

"What the heck?" She whispered and moved closer, running her fingertips lightly across the red and purple bruises. Her eyes widened to resemble a look of a deer in headlights, and she stepped back and forced her eyes away. That was new as well. She silently slipped out of her room and to the kitchen and got a glass of water. When she made it back to her room she looked back in the mirror and nearly dropped the water- The bruises were gone as suddenly as they had come. Had they really been there, or had she only thought they were? Was it just shadows? She set the glass down and shuffled back to inspect her neck, but it was completely void of any injuries. Sucking in a nervous breath through her teeth she moved back to her bed and sat with her arms hugging her knees to her chest. 

Concern kept her up for a little while longer before she gave up and went back to sleep, waking a few hours later at five when she decided she was done re-watching Heather scream at her and got up to make breakfast. She used to cook a lot when she was with Ruth, but she hadn't done much while being with the Winchesters, so she figured she treating them to an actual breakfast- not the leftovers from last night's takeout- would be nice. She dug a somewhat dusty pan from the lower cabinets and got the stove started up, then turned to the fridge. She had made sure that they had gotten the essentials for cooking, and smiled softly as she found the carton of eggs shoved into the very back. Eggs and pancakes were her original plan, but upon seeing the bacon Dean had secretly slipped into the cart without her knowledge, she tossed the flour for the pancakes back into the cupboard. 

It couldn't have been any more than five minutes after she started cooking the bacon that June jumped from the sound of someone behind her. She spun around and relaxed at the sight of a sleep Dean looking around with confusion on his face.

"Do you smell that?" He asked and rubbed his hand over his face. June grinned and nodded her head,

"That would be bacon, Dean." She said and pursed her lips to keep from laughing with excitement as a grin spread across his mouth as well. 

"You are awesome." He said and shook his head in pleasant disbelief. June turned back and kept poking at the food, realizing the eggs were nearly done. The bacon still had a bit to go, so she worked on getting the eggs on a few plates while it simmered and snapped loudly in the hot pan. When she turned around Sam appeared and poked his head through the doorway, seeing June and raising his eyebrows. 

"Are you cooking?" He asked and crossed his arms calmly as he walked in.

"You Winchesters and food, I swear it gets you up faster than the fire alarm in the morning." She joked and turned the stove off, pulling the bacon onto its own plate. They had forgotten to get any types of beverages- besides the beer Dean got despite June complaints- so she got herself water while the other two got themselves beers. "You guys are killing your livers." She commented as they all sat down after she set the table for them. Dean just rolled his eyes.

"You didn't have to do all this." Sam said with a smile across her face as he ate some of his food. He paused and added another statement before June could reply, "But I am very glad you did." He laughed and Dean snickered quietly from Sam's left. June brought her hand up to her neck to brush her hair over her shoulder, but felt that her neck felt a little sore. She paused from eating and pressed her fingers into her neck and grimaced- it felt bruised again.

"Does my neck look normal?" She asked blatantly and looked up at the others with a look of sturdy concentration.

"It looks like a neck." Dean said slowly and raised an eyebrow, "Why?"

"Just feels weird. Maybe I slept on it wrong." June answered quietly and returned to eating to end the conversation. She noticed Sam watch her for a few seconds. Once everyone was done eating June had attempted to do the dishes, but Sam wouldn't let her and held the soap out of reach above her head until she let him do them. 

"You're taking away my fun," she complained- she liked cleaning- and stuck her tongue out. Sam chuckled and moved around her for she was still standing next to the sink with a glare hardened on her face. She huffed and walked back toward her bedroom. She went straight to the mirror and froze- it was bruised  _again._  Her eyebrows furrowed and she rubbed her hand on her neck. Hearing someone walking outside the hall, she trotted out to meet up with Dean with wide eyes. He stopped in his tracks and watched her cautiously.

"Something's not right." She said and pointed at her neck. 

"Am I supposed to be seeing something?" He asked gruffly and raised his eyebrow. June faltered and dropped her hand to her side before sprinting back into her room. The bruises were still there, though. 

"The bruises, Dean." She explained as he followed her into her bedroom. 

"I don't see any bruises." He said slowly, his voice dropping lower.

"What? They're right there." She said loudly and prodded at her slightly sore neck, looking from Dean to the mirror and back. "You can't see them?" She whispered as she stared at her neck through the mirror.

"I don't see anything, you look fine." His expression had hardened as he tried to grasp what was going on. June sighed and rubbed her hands down her face, 

"Of course you can't." She said with an exasperated tone to her quiet voice. Dean watched her through the mirror for a few seconds before shifting on his feet and replying, 

"I guess we just wait and see what happens." June nodded and he walked out quietly, most likely to go tell Sam.

After a few hours of everyone just messing around and entertaining themselves with distractions such as the TV, reading, researching for any nearby cases, and in June's case, cleaning, June found herself sitting at the table across from Dean in the library. She had her knife out and was spinning in on its tip on the table, careful not to make any marks, though. She was poking around in her thoughts, trying to remember if there was anything she might have missed in any of her dreams. She still had the bruises on her neck, though neither of the boys could see them, and it was becoming quite worrisome for June. Where could they have come from? She moved her knife and ran it very lightly across the top of her arm, just enough to tickle the hairs on her arm as she thought. After a few seconds, her entire vision changed. She wasn't in the bunker; she wasn't even herself. She was in some barn, and saw the arms she was looking down at were clearly a man's arms. He had a knife in his hand, and for seemingly no reason drug the blade across his wrist. Blood instantly poured out and he dropped the knife. _What the heck?_ She could mentally and nearly physically feel the burning pain and heat of the blood-

"What the hell are you doing?!" Dean shouted. She was once again in the bunker, and was in the motion of jumping to her feet in fear. Dean jumped up and trotted toward her. She backed up with wide eyes, completely confused. He reached her and grabbed her wrist of the hand holding the knife, twisting it sharply enough to bring pain. She yelped and dropped knife. Her eyes trailed from his hand to her right arm- it was covered in blood. Her confusion slipped away and was overtaken with horror. Dean shouted and she flinched, “What the hell?” He repeated and pulled her by her bloodied arm toward the nearest bathroom. Her mind was spinning too fast to comprehend- how could she have one that? She wasn’t looking at herself, she didn’t tell herself to do that, she’s seen someone _else_ do that, not her. Her attention was brought back as Dean jerked her to the side and into Sam’s room, then into the bathroom. Sam hadn’t been in there, but June could hear him approaching, probably because of Dean’s shouting. June was by now shaking enough that Dean stopped to glance at her before digging out the first aid kit. Sam entered and June looked up at him with fearful eyes. He froze in spot as if he couldn’t understand, or possibly believe, what his eyes were seeing.

“What happened?” He spat out moving forward and grabbing her hurt arm, pushing it to the sink and turning the faucet on. June whimpered and flinched, and Sam seemed to finally register the terror racking her. “What happened?” He asked again with a quieter tone.

“I don’t know,” June murmured and flinched when Dean grabbed her shoulder, lightly turning her to face him. How could she have done that, without telling herself to? He wrapped a towel around her arm, refusing to make eye contact and turning back to the first aid box. Everyone was deathly silent for a few minutes as Dean wrapped her arm, and June kept her eyes, though still wide, diligently locked on their feet. When Dean released her arm back into her own custody, June hugged her arms across her chest despite the burning that emanated from her injured forearm. She had managed to subconsciously cut a, luckily shallow, slice spanning almost the entire distance between her wrist and elbow. She noticed there was quite a bit of blood on her jeans, some on the floor, and probably more in the library. Still shaking rather terribly, June stepped forward and attempted to go sit on the bed, but Sam caught her good arm before she could even get past the doorway.

“No.” He said simply and turned her back around, “I need to know what just happened.”

“You know as much as I do.” She murmured and locked her eyes once again on the ground.

“Pretty sure that’s not true.” Dean said loudly, and she heard him cross his arms.

“I don’t know,” She said and pulled her arm from Sam to hug her arms around her stomach.

“Did you do that on purpose?” Sam asked quietly to break the silence that had taken over for the past few seconds.

“No, I swear, I didn’t even know I did it.” June answered and pulled her eyes up to glance at him and Dean.

“How did you not know?” Dean snapped and raised his hands in disbelief, “You just reached over and cut your freaking arm open _without knowing?_ ” June flinched again and slipped quickly from the room toward her own bed a few feet down the hall.

“June.” Sam said, and she was pretty sure she heard him smack Dean lightly, “Wait.” She crawled onto her bed and curled up, hugging her knees to her chest in an attempt to calm her shaking form. How is that even possible?

“How did you not know?” He asked quietly from beside her, though she had her face buried against her knees and therefore could not see him.

“I don’t know, it was weird.” She whispered and ran her hand through her hair, twisting it and pulling it over her shoulder, “I was like, hallucinating or something.” She pulled her head up and rubbed her eyes, “I couldn’t see myself.” She added. Glancing over at Sam reveal him tensing up and his eyebrows lowering suspiciously.

“What do you mean?”

“I couldn’t see myself, I wasn’t seeing my arms or hands, it was s-someone else’s, and they did that, they- they did this.” She stammered her voice breaking. She cut herself off for she didn’t trust her voice enough to say any more, and pressed her face into her hands. It was silent for a few seconds before Dean sighed and sat down on the side of the bed.

When June removed her hands, she once again found herself not where she expected. She was somehow in a barn once again. She was standing in the middle, and looked around frantically. The dirt was ground into a fine dust that covered the ground, and it was a mostly empty space. There was an old tractor collecting dust and cobwebs in the corner, a ladder against the wall, and a staircase to her left that lead up to a loft of some sort. Looking down, the ground at her feet was soaked in blood; and she completely panicked.

“June,” Sam shouted, his voice breaking into her ears. She jumped and clapped her hands over her ears. Snapping her eyes open revealed she was once again in her room, and she quickly scooted back and away from the hand on her shoulder. She didn’t quite think her movements through since they were fueled by panic, and yelped when she dropped off the edge of the bed and onto the ground. Her head cracked loudly against the wall and she covered her head with her arms. Instantly both Winchesters were at her once again, though with closed eyes she couldn’t tell who had grabbed her arm.

“You have to calm down, what’s wrong?” Sam said quickly but with a meticulously quiet voice. She peeked through her arms that were still held protectively over her head then shook her head.

“I don’t know.” She murmured and slowly lowered her arms enough to run her hands down her face. Apparently she’d been crying, because her cheeks had lines of warm water sitting upon them. She wiped her eyes and tried to calm her breathing since it had increased to an unhealthy speed. She moved her legs from their tight position against her chest and let Sam help her up by her good arm, and sat on the edge of the bed to stare at her feet.

“What are you seeing? “Dean asked quietly, and she glanced warily up at him.

“Some barn, with some guy who hurt himself, I don’t know, and there was blood, and- I had bruises on my neck, I don’t, I don’t know what’s going on,” She said, then jumped as Sam shook her shoulder,

“You need to calm down, just breathe.” He said and sat down on the bed in front of her. She balled her fists and pulled her knees up to rest her fists on. It took a few minutes, but eventually she calmed down and stretched back out from the fetal position. Scooting backward to sit on her pillows with her back against the headboard, she crossed her arms over her chest and flinched when Sam spoke up again.

“I’m gonna call Cas back down.” He muttered quietly, getting to his feet. June nodded weakly and glanced up at Dean, who was sitting on the far corner of her bed with his hands linked with a look of concentration on his face as he stared at the wall. Never before had June ever seen anything without being asleep- the soul shards had never been strong enough to cause her to hallucinate. She heard Sam leave the room and glanced at the door before turning to face Dean.

“You said you were born July thirtieth?” He asked through the thick silence. June’s eyebrows furrowed,

“Yeah. Why?”

“Not sure.” He muttered and got up, leaving the room without another sound. June got up slowly, moving first to her mirror. The bruises were still on her neck, even though she was the only one who could see them. After a few seconds prodding the sore bruises she turned and poked her head warily into the hallway. Walking silently on purpose, she crept to the corner and glance around it. Dean was standing at the library table with his back to her with his hands planted firmly on the smooth wooden surface. He had to have some sort of theory going through his head- he was practically defining the look of concentration. She dropped her gaze before nervously looking back up. Upon looking him over in the initial act of making sure he wasn’t going to shout again, she noticed something odd. His coat was partially covering it, but it almost looked as if he had bruises as well. Her eyes widened and she stepped forward, knocking her knee against the corner of the wall. She hissed and moved around the wall, but Dean had noticed her and turned to glance at her.

“Your neck,” She stammered and froze in place. He had the same bruises she had on her neck, in a line to look almost like a morbid necklace, exactly like her own. He faltered and raised his hand to his neck, confusion breaking his concentration.

“What?” He asked and stepped forward. But it was all too much- the fact of seeing not only herself bruises up, but Dean as well instantly broke her nerves. Panic blotted her head and increased her breathing as she spun on her heel and sprinted back into her room, closing and locking her door behind her. She pressed her back against it and slid down with her face in her hands. _Dean_ was hurt, not just her- of all of this, everything that had been happening because of the extra souls, not once did any of it affect Sam or Dean. But seeing _him_ hurt- she couldn’t bare that. It was because of her, it wasn’t their fault. Her hands were once again shaking, so she stuffed them into her hair and held her curls in her fists with her eyes clamped shut tightly.

\---------

 _Cas, we need you._ The words echoed in Castiel’s head. He paused, glancing over at the group of four angels in the corner of Erin Coulter’s heaven, which consisted of a large farm out in the country. The angels had grouped and were hiding out in Erin’s heaven, using the man’s normal existence as a safe haven. Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed; he should tend to Dean’s beckoning, but these angels were in his immediate interest- they were some of the small handful that had not sided for or against June Howe yet. They had hid themselves away in an attempt to escape the vigor of the two opposing sides-

 _Castiel, its June. We need you now._ Sam’s tone was harsher, laden with worry, but Castiel could feel the fear that laced his words. With a sigh he turned, stepping forward and into the hall of the bunker. Sam was standing in front of him with his back turned, and had jumped reflexively in response to Castiel’s immediate presence. He always forgot- humans were unable to sense the presence of a being arriving to them through the fourth dimension as angels and some demons had the ability to do so. It was really simple actually, it involved the neurons-

“Can you tell what she’s thinking from here?” Dean asked lowly, shoving off from previously leaning against June’s door, cutting off Castiel’s thoughts. He directed his attention to the door and narrowed his eyes- June was in a complete panic.

“What’s going on? He asked and looked between his friends.

“June locked herself in her room, she’s not thinking straight.” Castiel blinked, and raised his hand to Dean’s forehead, pressing his fingers to it. Images and thoughts flashed and merge with his own, and he flicked through them until he saw June, picking one and following it faster than Dean’s mind could probably see, though it was nearly slow motion for Cas. He frowned, watching the scene of June cutting her arm, and froze the image- he could see something on June, almost as if her aura had shifted; cracked. He dropped his fingers and stared at the door, ignoring Dean’s flinch and starring ahead to where he could sense June. She was scared, her entire form radiated fear. Able to see her through his senses, she was curled in a defensive position against the door. She did not feel injured besides her arm, which was a positive sign.

“June, what is wrong?” Castiel asked, walking to the door.

“Please just leave me alone.” Her voice came muffled through the door. He could feel a twinge of relief radiate from her at the sound of his voice, but her fear increased as well. He turned to Sam,

“She is blocking her thoughts, possibly created a warding, though I cannot sense where it may be, therefore it does not seem to be physically manifested.” Sam’s eyes narrowed as he considered the information, the turned to face the door.

“June, can we send Cas in?”

“Please don’t.” She squeaked, and the sound of her shifting against the door appeared.

“She hurt herself earlier, we can’t just leave her in there alone.” Dean explained loudly and pressed his hand against the wall next to the door, glancing at Castiel out of the corner of his eye. It was true, Castiel had seen the act himself through Dean’s eyes.

“She is not injured at the moment.” Castiel explained with a calm tone. The raise of voices had increased June’s heart rate- the angel could hear it clearly.

“She was fine before she cut herself earlier too!” Dean snapped and turned around, planting his hands on top of his head as he thought. Castiel narrowed his eyes,

“Dean-” He started but Dean spoke as well,

“You need to go in there.” Sam was facing them as well, and seemed to agree with his brother’s opinion by nodding slowly.

“I am not sure if that would be a wise action considering she is already in a,” Something chimed, a very quiet tone much like the resonating of a soul, then vanished, causing Castiel to snap his mouth shut for a few seconds before continuing, “She is a very unstable state as it is.” Sam noticed the angel’s pause, but stepped forward with concern in his eyes,

“That’s the point. She might hurt herself again, she wasn’t in control of her body the first time, and we don’t know if it’ll happen again.” Weighing the measures and checking first Castiel turned to face the door.


	26. Picking up Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still scared beyond belief, June hides herself away to avoid seeing any of her friends. An old but welcomed friend makes an entrance and works to soothe her nerves with stories of her past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Mentioning of seeing hallucinations of scenes of death. Not described in great detail, though.  
> \-------
> 
> Sorry for anyone who was reading this and noticed the large gap between my postings recently, had been busy with school and life, but this story's almost done and the last few chapters should be up soon after this one!

“Please just leave me alone.” June murmured with her face pressed into her hands. Lifting her head and opening her eyes revealed the barn once again, so she snapped her eyes shut to avoid seeing more things she didn’t want- things she didn’t even dare thing about again. Everything outside her door got quiet, and she felt her hair stand up on the back of her neck out of fear and anticipation. A noise inside her room forced her eyes open. Castiel was standing with a confused and sad look on his face. She closed her eyes instantly. She learned looking at others wasn’t fun, and only resulted in either seeing them with vivid bruises on their neck, blood on their arms, or- other sights she’d rather not dwell on. She stuffed her hand into her hair, twisting it into her fists. “Please go, Cas.” She said quietly, knowing the hypersensitive being could easily hear her. She forced her eyes open, but didn’t dare let her eyes trail any higher than his knees. Therefore when he stepped forward she flinched and scooted a little further from him.

“June, you must tell us what is wrong.” Castiel said quietly and knelt down. She sucked in a sharp breathe through her teeth and shoved herself to her feet, though she swayed a reasonable amount. She diverted her eyes from his still-crouching form and glared down at the bandage wrapped around her arm, running her finger down it slowly.

“ _Look what you did; you don’t belong here!_ ” Heather’s voice screeched in her head. She dropped to the ground instantly with her hands clapped over her ears. _Three,_ she counted in her head- third time she’s heard that phrase since she locked herself in her room. Other phrases from Heather she’d heard more, others less. Castiel’s face changed at the same time she heard that, then reverted and seemed simply surprised at her distress and stood up, stepping toward her.

“No, please don’t touch me.” June said quickly and got back to her feet, skipping out of reach backwards toward the bed. Even though part of her mind knew he wasn’t going to hurt her, she was still completely on edge with Heather’s voice in her head. She stopped when she felt the blankets against the back of her knees. She could clearly hear her increased heartrate loudly in her ears, as if her heartbeats were reverberating inside of her skull.

“June, no one is going to hurt you.” Castiel said quietly, purposely turning slowly as to avoid scaring her again. Was he reading her thoughts? She didn’t want that- he didn’t need to see Heather attacking her, he didn’t need to see the images she was forced to see- even then as soon as the thought entered her mind patches of blood began soaking through the sleeves of his trench coat. Her eyes widened and she backed up, forgetting she was against the bed and knocking herself onto her back. She scampered backwards until her back was against the headboard and pinched her eyes shut. The silence in the room put her on edge and she opened her eyes- Castiel wasn’t in the room anymore, but she could hear his voice, though muffled, through the door. Blinking resulted in being back in the barn. It was bad there, it scared her the most, and therefore she snapped her eyes shut again. The breaking of glass send cold fear down her spine, but she knew it wasn’t in her room, nor the bunker- it was from when she broke the vase when she was almost ten.

A different noise, the ruffling of fabric, alerted her of Castiel’s return.

“I would like to talk with you.” He said quietly. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and June flinched, tossing her legs over the side. He raised his hands and stared at her for a few seconds. “Just talk, nothing bad will happen, I promise.” She kept her eyes off of him and locked on the ground below her hanging feet. Every once in a while she realized her breathing was slipping into hyperventilation, but she ignored that because things normally distracted her. She took the chance of glancing at Castiel, instantly regretting it. The sight she kept avoiding, the one that she locked the door to protect herself from, stood once again in front of her face. A noose was wrapped around Castiel’s neck, and he was sitting there calmly as if it wasn’t- which was true, but still the sight threw her of balance. Nausea rolled in her stomach like the sea from horror and she jumped to her feet, sprinting to the bathroom and slamming the door behind her. She engaged the lock, pressed her back against it, and slid down to sit on the floor with her face in her hands.

“Please just leave.” She repeated, hot tears pooling in her palms and running down to drip off her chin. The silence behind her prodded at her attention until she heard the soft murmur of Castiel’s deep voice out with Sam and Dean.

\--------------

“She is in a state of hysteria.” Castiel said quietly, glancing at the door that Dean was leaning against. Sam was pacing silently with his arms crossed. “She has taken unnecessary refuge in the bathroom.”

“Great.” Dean huffed and ran his hand down his face. Castiel was able to feel something- almost as if June’s mind was cracking against the pressure of the extra soul ravaging her own- right before she fell to the ground. There was still something off about it- as if her panic was somehow managing to block him out, to defend her against any of his attempts to read her thoughts or reason for panic.

“Okay.” Sam said quietly and stopped walking, instead leaning against the wall across from Dean. “Don’t go in there. Let her think for a few minutes.” He nodded his head, then shoved back off the wall, walking down the hallway. Castiel frowned, and walked back into June’s room through his normal dimensional travels. She was still sitting with her back against the door in the bathroom. Her heart rate was greatly increased, as well as her respiration and emotional output.

“Cas.” Dean’s voice crawled through the door. Castiel returned to Dean’s side, who flinched. “You sure you can’t read her head?” Castiel shook his head,

“No, I cannot. She is managing to ward herself somehow, though I am not sure she is aware of her doing so.” Dean looked up at the angel with narrowed eyes,

“Why do you say that?” He asked, his voice gravelly.

“It is fluctuating with her emotions, rather than staying constant as a physically manifested warding would act.” Dean looked down, and shook his head. His face look tired- Castiel could feel that he was emotionally worn. Sam reappeared with something in hand.

\--------------

June curled her hair in her hands, tugging on it then running her fingers through it. Alone, she wasn’t able to see any of her friends being injured, but that did nothing about seeing herself. The fear of the barn was first initialized by seeing herself cut her own arms, but was easily topped, though she avoided that image at all costs. She sucked in a breath and wiped her eyes before returning her hands to her hair. Her fingers brushed against the silky texture of the feather in her hair, and she quickly closed her hand around it and closed her eyes as the image of the barn tried to flood her vision.

“June.” A voice said very quietly. She snapped her eyes open and pressed her hand against the door. That wasn’t Castiel’s voice, but she recognized it. Her breaths were one again kicked into a state of hyperventilation- who was that? It was on the tip of her tongue, just out of reach in the back of her mind. She flinched as she heard it again- but it wasn’t with her ears, _it was in her head;_ “I’m going to come in. Don’t be scared.”

“Gabriel?” She murmured at the same time as he appeared opposite of her in the bathroom. She of course panicked at the sight of someone appearing out of thin air, and slapped her hand over her mouth to keep back from shouting. She swallowed the unwanted noise and pressed her palms to her eyes, “No, no you have to leave.” She stated and the whimpered.

“It’s okay, June, you don’t have to be afraid.” He said quietly and she heard him sit down. She shook her head in her hands and turned her body away from him.

“You can’t be here.” She whispered and hugged her knees with her face against her knees.

“I’m not gonna go anywhere, let’s just talk.” She simply shook her head in reply. “Nobody can hear us, I’m not letting ‘em. Let’s talk like we talked in Heaven.” June’s breath caught in her throat and she held it there. It was true, they had talked in heaven, multiple times- and that was only the times she remembered. “June, you have to breathe.” He reminded her quietly and she gasped in the air her lungs had been crying for. She was crying as well, and continuously wiped her eyes. “Let’s talk about something different that all this.” She lifted her head and hesitated before opening her eyes. He had moved and was sitting beside her with his back against the side of the tub. She squeaked in surprise- she hadn’t even heard him move.

“I can’t, I- you h-have to leave.” She stammered and locked her eyes on the floor. She already had the images of Castiel, Sam, and Dean with nooses on their necks and cut up arms, she didn’t need the same of Gabriel.

“Then I’ll talk, you just listen, can you do that?” After a few seconds she nodded her head. When she blinked the ground beneath her turned to the dusty dirt of the barn, she gasped and snapped her eyes shut. Better to keep them closed. “How about your ribs, your warding- you wanna know about that?” Her attention was officially captured and she nodded her head with her eyes closed. She heard him sit back, then sigh, “Alright. Well, I got you that when you were eight, while you were in heaven. Technically, I wasn’t supposed to be in any form on contact with you,” He chuckled softly, “Of course I ignored that- I’m already a higher rank than those who ordered it anyways. This was right after when happened with you mom, and the gun.” June stiffened, and Gabriel’s words cuff instantly. “No, I’ve got a better story.” He said, elegantly changing the topic of the conversation. She relaxed a little, but only a second before a gunshot echoed in her ears. She jumped, standing up with one hand gripping the door handle and another on the edge of the sink. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay.” He repeated soothingly and she spotted him standing up slowly beside her.

“Please don’t touch me,” She closed her eyes and backed against the door, “I’m sorry.” The last comment slipped out, she hadn’t even meant to say that, it just rolled off her tongue without consent. She peeked her eyes open, feeling as if the fear would be diminished if she could see it, though she knew that wasn’t going to happen. Gabriel’s stance deflated beside her and she dropped her eyes to the ground.

“You’re okay.” He said quietly and sat back down. June heard him pat the ground, sending conflictions into her head. He wasn’t going to hurt her, she knew that. But everything seemed to be collapsing around her, and sitting down just felt vulnerable. After a few more seconds she slowly sat back down and hugged her knees shakily to her chest. Since that went without consequences, she dared to glace at him. He smiled softly at her and she dropped her gaze. “You know, everyone who meets you, even us angels, all of us are so astounded by you. Even when you were little, every time we saw you, you were happy. Energetic, bubbly- even the times we saw you in heaven and you had just _died_ , each time you were just curious. You weren’t afraid- you don’t need to be afraid now. No one is going to hurt you. Even though you have the worst luck I’ve seen on anyone for a while, you just wanted to know more. You wanted to explore, to know more about angels, about heaven- you accepted that you were in heaven, and instead of being upset like the others kids I see, even when you were just four years old, you were simply happy.” June paused and picked her head up, forgetting her situation for a second and turning to look at him.

“I died when I was four?” She breathed, then dropped her eyes with her eyebrows furrowed. How many times had she died? How was it possible that she had died so many times, and was still alive now? “How?” Gabriel sighed,

“I shouldn’t tell you right now. But I can do you even better.” She glanced at him as he continued talking, “You know this,” he started, and very slowly lifted his hand from where it was resting on his knee. Very, very slowly, he scooted it toward her. At first she flinched away and started to stand up, and he froze, “Shhh,” He hushed, and she sat still. She locked eyes with him and whimpered from nerves as he brushed her hair behind her shoulder, and pressed something against her neck. When he dropped his hands she instantly brought hers to her neck- he’d pulled the hair away from hiding her feather. She glanced at him again, only to see bruises forming on his neck before her eyes. Her breathing kicked up quickly and she curled back up. In an attempt to calm her, he continued speaking. “That’s from me- that’s one of my feathers.” Her breath once again caught in her throat. “I gave that to you when you were four. You were so special- not only because of your soul, but because of how pure you were. So curious, so positive- you were special, and that feather helps you remember. But it’s not just an angel’s feather; you’ve probably noticed some odd things about it.” Slowly June’s breathing returned to normal, and she kept her fingers around her feather, listening with her eyes pinched shut. “Like when you called to me, but Castiel came. That was because of the feather. It had a trace of grace in it, which was able to amplify your prayers. And it connects you to me. That’s how I knew you were afraid in here. When you touch that feather, I’m able to sense where you are, how you are. Only if you are allowing that, of course.” She opened her eyes slowly, keeping them on the ground. It was his own feather? Like one off of his very own wings? Pulling the feather outward and looking down she was able to see the bottom of the feather. Noticing Gabriel moving beside her, she flinched as his hand neared her own. “It’s okay.” He repeated. As soon as his fingertip brushed against her hand, the golden surface of the feather seemed to light up, as if it was reflecting light even though none was shining on it. She breathed in sharply and dropped her hand- but it wasn’t completely out of fear.

“Why does that happen?” She asked quietly, her voice weak and slightly scratchy.

“Like I told you, it’s one of my own feathers. It’s connected to me, to my grace. When you are distressed and fiddle with it like you do, I’m able to feel that, and any time you call, I will always hear. No matter the warding, I will always hear. There’s a reason the feather of an angel is rare- we don’t normally lose them without our say-so.” She caught him smile through her peripheral vision.  “That feather lets me watch over you when you want.” The though sent an unexpected roll of relief over her body. She practically had a, well, guardian angel watching over her. Her mind dropped a little; What about the times she was with Heather? With her mom when the gun was in between? A quick recall of the events- not without the fear that it brought with- revealed that she hadn’t thought about the feather in those situations. But with Adam, she had- and immediately Gabriel stepped in. “Because of the warding you have; extra special, wrote it up myself to be even stronger, I’m not able to sense you unless you let me by touching the feather.” He answered, and she glanced at him. The bruises were gone from his neck, though she didn’t dare get his arms into view.

“Right now, your soul isn’t doing too well,” He said quietly, trying to change the subject while she wasn’t in a complete panic. Her muscles stiffened, but she forced herself to listen. “It’s sort of unstable. I don’t know what you’re seeing, but I can guess it’s nothin’ good. You have to try and get ahold of it. It’s getting affected by your mind. When you panic, it’s making things worse. Those things you’re seeing, they aren’t real.” She tried to listen, but her heart quickened and June brought her hand to the bandages on her arm. Gabriel seemed to only then notice it and shift in place. “What happened?” He asked quietly with worry lacing his words. She bit her lip and turned her head away. She hadn’t meant to, she didn’t know she was even doing it- it had been the man’s arms she had been seeing.

“I’m sorry.” She breathed out and ducked her face against her knees, tremors cursing across her body.

“It’s okay.” He said quickly. “I know you don’t wanna, but you gotta talk to us.” The words were like hooks in her mind, and she knew she was lost again. She was in the barn again, and she snapped her eyes shut and whined quietly. Gabriel went silent at her side besides the sound of him shifting in place nervously. She tried opening her eyes again, only to get a glimpse of what she feared- the man whose arm’s she’d seen, deceased and hung by his neck in the barn. She instantly pressed her eyes shut and against her hands. If she looked any longer it’d happen again- she’d see herself there, instead of the man, again. Last time she saw the man hanged, her own image flickered where his was for a few seconds- and a few seconds was all she had needed to lock the door behind her earlier. In a whirlwind of panic she got to her feet and leaned her forehead against the cold wood of the door.

“June?” Castiel’s voice said from the other side, obviously he had heard her move against the door. She jumped back a step, then turned around as she heard Gabriel stand up. She pressed her palms against her eyes and jumped when she felt his hand on her shoulder. She tried to move away, but he gently kept her in place and turned her to face him.

“It’s okay, I promise it’s okay.” He murmured, and she felt his arms wrap around her. At first her mind had jumped to the thought that he was going to hurt her, but when he didn’t she was forced to rethink it- he was _hugging_ her. She relaxed and pressed her head against his shoulder, breathing out shakily.

“Are you okay?” Sam’s voice now came from the door. She flinched, and Gabriel hummed soothingly.

“It’s okay. You have to talk to them, they won’t hurt you. They wanna help. They don’t know I’m here.” She stayed silent, though very slowly nodded her head against his shoulder. She wanted this to stop. The blood, the horrid sights- she wanted to be normal again. But that wasn’t going to happen unless something changed, unless they tried to fix all of this. “I’m gonna let you go, okay? But I’m not gonna leave you, not completely. You remember your feather, okay?” He said quietly, and placed his hands on her shoulder to step back. She locked her eyes on the ground again, but nodded her head in silent concurrence. “Stay golden, kid.” He said quietly and kissed the top of her head. When his touch left her, she looked up and he was gone.

“June?” Castiel repeated through the door. “Can I come in?” June glanced around the empty room, before moving to the door and pressing her forehead against it. With a shaking hand, she quietly unlocked the door and stepped back. Castiel must have heard her unlock it, because after a second the handle turned and the door very slowly opened. June jumped back a few steps, though glanced up at the door. Castiel was standing in the half-opened doorway, and she could see Sam behind him at the bed. Neither had bruises or blood, which was promising. Castiel opened the door more and tilted his head to the side. He had something off about his glance, but he cleared his throat and the look disappeared. “Do you want to come out?” He asked, then glanced over his shoulder at Sam as well as Dean, who had moved into sight. June nodded her head very lightly, and waited until Castiel was a good distance from the door before walking out. She shut it behind her and stood silently in front of it with her eyes once again downcast toward the ground.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked with a cautious tone. She nodded her head weakly and glanced up, moving toward the bed to sit on the edge. Sam moved out of her way, though when he sat down on it a few feet from her she still flinched. “Do you wanna tell us what’s wrong?” He tried. She very nervously pulled her eyes up to look at Castiel, who was watching her curiously, and raised her hand at the angel. He seemed very confused at first, looking to Sam and Dean for guidance, and then stepped forward.

“What is wrong?” He asked and tilted his head to the side. Not trusting her own voice or that she was stable enough to even start explaining, she reached forward and very gently moved his hand to her head. She flinched at first contact, then closed her eyes again and pressed his hand to her forehead. The angel seemed to understand, and instantly images flooded into her head. She flinched but forced herself to stay still, trying to ignore the scenes of death and blood that passed through. Though when she saw a few of Heather flash into her sight, she instantly jumped back to break contact. She hadn’t realized she’d been crying until then, and futilely wiped her cheeks.

At first, it looked like Castiel was going to throw up- June had managed to dig up the courage to watch him. His face paled, then he seemed to scramble to collect himself. He looked at June with wide eyes, his jaw dropping very slightly ajar.

“What is it?” Dean asked nervously. She watched as Castiel opened his mouth, then closed it again, staring at June as if he wasn’t sure what to even say.

“Cas?” Dean hissed, attempting to keep his words quiet despite the nerves bouncing around the room. The angel stepped forward and pressed his fingers against Dean’s head. When he removed them Dean jerked to his feet and covered his mouth, turning away from them. June jumped at the sudden movement and turn away from him, unknowingly toward Sam. He reached forward and very gingerly put his hand on her shoulder. She fought the urge to pull away, and as soon as the feeling passed and scooted over toward him and leaned against his side with her face in her hands. She heard Castiel move over, and Sam stiffened a second later- Castiel must have showed him as well.

It took a few seconds, and she was pretty sure he hadn’t breathed yet, but Sam managed to calm himself down and forced out some words, “It’s gonna be okay.” She felt another hand on her other shoulder and glanced up- Dean was sitting beside her with a look that resembled both pain and concern. She turned toward Dean and pressed her face into the crook of his shoulder, and he reactively wrapped his arms around her. Sam’s hand stayed on her shoulder comfortingly and he repeated his words, “It’s okay. We’re gonna fix it.” She nodded her head against Dean’s shoulder and let herself relax.


	27. Deathly Bad Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a rough start they three gather themselves up and head out to finally release the last soul in an attempt to free June from this nightmarish life she'd been thrown into. But things are never that easy, and her back luck catches up in the worst way yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: (This is a spoiler, so if you don't wanna know don't keep read this warning!) 
> 
>  
> 
> Death of main character. Not described in great detail, though.

June woke up very slowly. As her body and mind woke up at different speeds, she realized her eyes and arm were both sore; her arm more so though. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, finding she was alone in her room, and her mind began to spin. When she had fallen asleep they had all been silently sitting in her room. She had been leaning against Dean, and the three boys were attempting to share their thoughts through their eyes with long and focused glances. She felt her blood slow with realization and sat up slowly- Castiel had showed them things she’d seen, though she had no idea what or how much. Hopefully not too much, but after seeing Dean’s immediate recoil she figured it was still generally disturbing. Sam had acted calmer, but she still could tell that he was internally quite upset. She didn’t remember much more before she fell asleep besides that, and figured at some point she needed to get up and figure out what they were going to do.

She didn’t quite want to stay there and dwell on the horrid sights from that night, therefore she slipped off of her bed and walked to her closed door. A glance at the mirror revealed she still had bruises on her neck and she sighed in response. She had been awake for a few minutes by now, and had yet to see anything too gruesome, and hoped maybe today would be better. At the moment, she was simply too tired to get very freaked out. Everything felt slightly abrasive though, which told her that her nerves where still ready to spike at any point. She opened the door slowly and peeked out, walking with purposefully silent steps down the hall. She could hear one of the boys talking very quietly, sounding like it was coming from the library. Unsure if she really wanted to face anything at the moment, she stopped at the corner and leaned against the wall as she listened. She couldn’t understand them though, because they must have been keeping quiet on purpose. Grinding her jaw she walked around the corner and to the doorway of the library. Sam, Dean, and Castiel were all sitting at the table leaning toward each other. A few books were scattered across the table’s surface, and frowns were collectively carved onto each of the boys’ faces. The laptop was siting unattended in front of them, and Sam was the first to spot her.

“Hey.” He said quietly and sat up, pulling an apologetic smile onto his mouth. None of them had bruises on their necks from what June could see, so she warily kept her eyes on them rather than reflexively on the floor. She smiled weakly and walked to the table. She turned and hopped up to sit on the edge of the cool wood of the table, turning to somewhat face them.

“How are you feeling?” Dean asked, pulling her eyes to meet with his. She stopped for a second to consider that. Her arm was sore, her eyes felt puffy from crying so much the previous night, but so far she hadn’t been seeing any hallucinations or hearing things that didn’t exist;

“I’m alright.” She answered and glanced at Castiel. He had a look of concentration still dusted on his face and was staring at her with his head tilted curiously to the side. Ignoring his questioning blue gaze, she turned back to Sam, deciding to get to the point.

“What all did Cas show you guys?” They all stiffened in union, glancing between each other and Castiel before Sam cleared his throat and turned back to face June. He seemed to not quite know where to even begin, running his hand through his shoulder-length brown hair.

“More than enough.” Dean grumbled with an agitated tone and June felt tickles of anxiety dance up the veins in her arms. Sam shook his head and reiterated for his brother,

“What you saw when you hurt yourself, some of the things you were seeing, like the bruises, the cuts.” He paused, seeming to look her over to decide how she was reacting. She wasn’t reacting as well as she had hoped, though. Her nerves had flared once again- had Castiel shown them the nooses she kept seeing? She herself barely wanted to think about it, but what if they hadn’t seen it? It’s probably important, and most likely connected to the soul shard. But what if they _had_ seen it? They must be disturbed- as much, if not more, than she was by them. “The, um, the,” He huffed, “ropes.” He had specifically changed the word, June could tell, probably in attempt to keep June calm. She did feel a relief wash over her, but it was cold as ice dripping down her spine, rather than warm and relaxing in any way. At least she wouldn’t have to be the one to tell them about it. If they’d seen that, had they seen any of the other things going through her head? The things with Heather? She froze- had they seen Gabriel? Did Castiel see him? Dean must have noticed her beginning to slip back into a panic, though at first she didn’t know how he noticed until her lungs began to complain because she’d been holding her breath.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it.” Dean said quickly, and Sam glanced over his shoulder at him- Sam was attempting to be realistic; they did need to talk about it if they were going to get it to ever stop.

“We got some information.” Sam said and tugged his laptop closer to him, awakening the black screen by flicking the mouse around a few times. June felt her curiously begin to crawl up from behind her fear and forced herself to watch them. “Cas got the name when you showed him what you’d seen; the man in the barn. His name is Ben Cotter.” June was finally intrigued enough to drop back onto the ground and pad around Sam to look over his shoulder in silence. Though when she saw the image of the man’s face- who was definitely the man from the scenes she’d been seeing though less bloody- she stiffened and backed up a few steps.

“Get out of here.” She heard Heather hiss in her head. She flinched, nearly fell, and scampered backward toward the doorway. Sam and Dean by then both stood up, Sam raising his hands slowly.

“It’s okay,” He said slowly, watching her as if she was a ticking bomb. She stopped herself in the doorway and looked over the room nervously. He leaned over with his eyes still locked on June and carefully closed the laptop to rid the source of her panic. It didn’t do much, but at least he was trying. With a silence falling over the room, June was able to calm herself down a bit and walked nervously toward the table. Sam sat down, and Dean followed a few seconds later. A few more seconds of tense silence followed before Sam began to continue talking. “He committed suicide in his barn; cut his wrists and hung himself. That’s why you were seeing all that.” Castiel shifted in his seat and spoke up with his gravelly voice announced,

“We have created a pattern as to the severity of your symptoms.” June snapped her head toward him, watching him with suspicious yet wide eyes.

“What do you mean?” She murmured. Dean cleared his throat,

“We think we know why they’ve been getting worse each time. We don’t know why their souls are part of yours, but we think the reason they keep getting worse is because the souls had been with you longer.” He paused to let that sink for June, but she impatiently stared at him until he continued, “They all died twenty years ago, each before another. Thomas was the first to show up, and he died in June. Then Elijah, and he died in April. Brenna in February, and Ben died the previous year in November, on the 29th.” June finally dropped her eyes from his as she dove into her thoughts. So each time the souls hit her harder, was because the person had been dead longer? That meant she had to have gotten the souls one by one, not all at once. But wouldn’t she have noticed that happening over the course of the years?

“Twenty years ago?” She asked and perked up a little as she carefully sat down in one of the chairs beside Sam. Dean nodded, glancing between her and Castiel.

“I wasn’t alive twenty years ago; I wasn’t born even when _Thomas_ died.” She bit her tongue, feeling a bit of aggravation finally manage to push the fear she had previously been slapped with away from her body. Instead it was replaced with confusion and annoyance.

“We know. Still not sure _how_ it happened.” Sam explained and looked down at his hands. June sighed and rubbed her eyes with her good hand.

“Well, I guess since we know where to go, we should get rid of the last one- You said his named was Ben, right?” She removed her hand to look at Sam, but his jaw was clenched and he looked a little upset.

“We’ll wait a while before we do anything.” He stated, though it wasn’t up for debate by the sound of his voice. June shrunk back a little, but forced herself to stay where she was.

“Why? Nothing’s going to get better until we fix it.” She announced and stiffly crossed her arms.

“Because six hours ago you were locked in your bathroom.” Dean explained from his seat on the other side of Sam. June bit her tongue- that was true.

“So?” June replied with a tired voice. Sam shifted in his seat and crossed his arms as well, looking her over.

“Are you sure you’re up for going anywhere? You know we’d have to go to the barn.” He seemed incredibly reluctant to say the second part, for good reason. June felt her skip a beat and dropped her hands into her lap with wide eyes. Anywhere but there. Anywhere but the barn she watched herself cut her arms open in, where she watched her friends, herself, and even strangers get hanged in. She stood up quickly and Sam realized his mistake at the same time as Dean spoke.

“Yeah, we’re staying here for a bit.” He said as he looked over June. She, in the meantime, had stuffed her hand into her hair and shakily ran her fingers through it and against the feather. She knew they had to eventually visit the horrible place, and that sooner was probably better than later, but her feet disagreed and were practically nailed to the ground.

“It’s okay, we won’t go until you’re ready.” Sam said soothingly and stood up cautiously. But bruises had formed on his neck, and June stepped back and dropped her eyes to the ground.

“No.” She said sharply, closing her eyes. She was done. One-hundred percent done seeing the people she cared about injured, bruised, bleeding, hanged- this was going to end. “Let’s go today.” The silence after her words was thick enough that she tugged her eyes up to glance at Sam, Dean, and Castiel. They all had confusion glazed over their own individual expressions. Dean was glaring, Sam ground his jaw and seemed to hold back words, and Castiel had a calm yet curious look burned onto his features. June dropped her hand from her hair and let her arms rest by her sides. “Let’s just get this over with.” She wanted to drop her gaze back to the ground, but forced her grey eyes to stay locked with Sam’s hazel eyes. Gradually Sam nodded his head, then broke his gaze to glance at Dean.

“Okay.” He answered quietly, ignoring Dean when he stiffened from behind him. “You wanna eat first?” June shook her head and deflated her stiff posture, letting herself relax.

“We can get something on the way. Where is it?” Dean still looked as if he was going to smack Sam up the back of the head, but seemed to keep himself generally under control besides his glare.

“Washington.” Sam replied, and moved back to the laptop. He specifically glanced at June for a few seconds before opening it, quickly closing the image and opening a fresh page. “Long drive. It’ll take,” He glanced at the screen and sighed, “Twenty two hours to get there.” June nodded and shifted to lean against the doorframe.

“We can stop and get food a few times, and hole up at a motel when we’re nearly there.” She replied. Dean finally couldn’t contain his words inside himself anymore.

“We can wait until tomorrow.” He stared at June, not meaning to, but making her nervous with his intense green gaze. She stood back up straight and broke eye contact to nod her head,

“No, it’s okay. We can go today.” She murmured and turned around the corner. She could instantly feel her muscles relax and quietly shuffled back into the hallway. She made it to her doorway before she finally confirmed that the feeling she was being followed was real and turned around. Dean was only a few steps behind her and had been reaching out to stop her by her shoulder. Startled, she jumped back a few feet until her back pressed against the wooden surface of her closed door. Dean smiled quickly apologetically, then let his mouth fall back straight.

“We don’t have to go just yet, you can let yourself rest.” She shook her head and attempted to calm herself before answering.

“It’s okay.” He was acting out of character- she would have expected him to be the one to let her decide to leave today, rather than Sam. “Aren’t you normally the one to wanna just get things done and over with?” She tried, but her voice was weak. Why would he be acting like this? Was it because of what Castiel showed him? Sam wasn’t acting this way, though. He bit his lip then sighed,

“Sammy and I talked. Cas,” he sighed again, “He, I guess slipped and showed be a bit longer than what he showed Sam.” Realization hit June like a sack of flour to the gut- toward the end of what Castiel had seen had been primarily things with Heather, even though she cut him off a few scenes in. The urge to run poked up in her head, but once again her feet refused to move. “Why don’t you just rest? You’ve obviously still on edge. Really, one day isn’t that long to wait.” It felt like her heart was in her throat, so June swallowed sharply and hesitated before shaking her head.

“It’s okay, Dean. The stuff from Heather wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen before.” He relaxed as she stated the subject he had been edging around carefully, “I’m not as bad as last night, so I really think we should just go and get it done. I’ll be able to deal with the other stuff better once I’m not seeing things from Ben.” June was surprised at how stable her voice had been, and stopped herself to really dwell on the words that had practically slipped from her mouth without her even thinking them. Of course she was jumpy, and going to the barn felt like her heart was going to jump out of her chest, but she was feeling better than that night before- as if she had a little hope. It was the last soul shard- after this one, they would never have to deal with it again- she could possibly become a normal person again, not just some prize being chased down by Heaven and Hell.

“Alright.” Dean said and nodded his head. He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded again and let a tired smile stretch across his mouth, “Get your stuff.” He said and backed up, turning around and heading back toward the library.

\--------------

Staring out the window at the golden hills rolling across the dark landscape through the window, June finally realized that what she was feeling there in the silence of the car wasn’t fear, but excitement. Her chest had tightened, her heart rate increased- but it was excitement. Toward the beginning of their drive hours and hours ago, she probably _had_ been afraid then. Through the entire ride- which was the quietest and longest car ride June had ever experienced- she had felt her nerves buzzing. But now as they were under an hour away from the motel near the barn, she concluded that she was excited. This was the last shard- _the last one._ After this, they would never have to deal with it again- and she was _excited_. She wasn’t sure what changed inside her in their long drive, but something flipped the switch in her head so that her normal optimism began kicking in. A small smile fought to take over the corners of her mouth, and she gladly let them.

They were almost done, so close that she had trouble staying her seat. As she turned away from the window, she looked ahead toward those in the front seat. Dean, who had switched places with Sam hours ago- was asleep against his own window in the passenger seat, while Sam was driving in the dead silence. The constant hum of the tires and engine were their only background noise. Sam must have noticed her move, because he peeked through the rear-view mirror at her. At the sight of the smile that stretched across her mouth, one spread across his as well and he glanced from her, to Dean, and back.

“We’re almost to the motel.” He said quietly to her, his smile staying full on his face. She nodded and bit her lip, leaning forward and resting her arms on the seat in front of her toward Sam.

“This is the last one, Sam.” She murmured quietly and felt her own smile slip into a grin. He laughed quietly and nodded his head.

“Yeah, it is. The very last.”

“We’ll have to celebrate,” She said and crossed her arms, leaning back once again, this time comfortably in her seat. Sam nodded his head and rolled his eyes at her, turning back toward the road. He glanced in the mirror and pulled off the highway onto the darker road toward the town they had picked to stay in. It was the next one over from the barn, but the distance was because the barn was technically in the middle of nowhere, and the closest place _was_ practically the next town over. June turned back toward the window and pressed her forehead against the icy-cold glass to try and see into the darkness to no avail. After a while they got into the town and there were more lights, and she contently watched the buildings as they slipped by them.

It was almost midnight by the time they pulled into the parking lot, and June waited in the car until Sam came back out through the lobby with keys in hand. June unbuckled herself instantly and lurched to lean over the back of the front seat.

“Dean.” She whispered and prodded his shoulder. He woke up instantly but still groggily, and peeked at her through his hands and groaned. She smiled back and he paused, seemingly surprised by her expression. In a flash she jumped back and slipped out into the night air letting the coolness fold itself around her. She watched Dean rub his eyes then get out at the same time as Sam stopped next to June. He leaned around her and grabbed his backpack with his laptop, and she trotted across to the sidewalk near the door. She turned around and watched them while she rolled on the balls of her feet. Any wisps of being tired or nervous seemed to have escaped her, leaving her excited and energetic- she was probably just losing her mind from sleep deprivation. Sam turned around and walked over with Dean, shaking his head when he first saw she was already near the door.

“Fourteen.” He chirped and tossed the keys at her. She jumped forward and caught them, smiling softly and moving to the door marked with a big 14. She unlocked it and flicked the light on, leaving the door open for the boys.

The room was very green, with dark green blankets on the beds, tan wood floors, and pale green walls. Some images of trees and one of the sky were hung in the empty spaces on the walls, and a large table was pressed against the wall with a TV on one side. There were two beds and a couch, and June instantly chose the couch. After so long of sleeping on the couch, it became a comfort things to her, and she found she slept better on the couch than the beds on these long trips she made with the Winchesters.

The couch was a cool tone of green and was leather- the color and texture were an odd mixture- but it was worn and actually very comfortable. She dropped her own bag of mostly clothes and flopped down onto it with her legs over one armrest. She heard the boys come in since they were tired and loud, and sat up to watch them. They went through the familiar pattern of tossing their bags near their own beds, setting some stuff on the table, then moved around on their own. Sam walked to the couch casually while Dean went to the bathroom, and June could hear the shower start up.

“I figure we’ll get up in the morning and get breakfast, then head on out there. I don’t think the gate will be locked.” Sam said, and leaned over to grab his laptop then sat at the table. June stood up and walked over to watch over his shoulder. He hesitated before he pulled anything up about the barn on his laptop, but June already had enough adrenaline pumping into her system to ward off the fear that tried to crawl up her spine at the picture of the barn. “So Ben was the only one who lived there, and had no family. From what I can tell, he was the only one who really knew much about the place, and when he died, no one really claimed it. It’s probably just abandoned still.” June nodded and crossed her arms before moving and pulling a chair around to sit on where she could still watch the screen.

They sat for a while and Sam switched gears, looking through the local feeds around the barn and trying to find any more helpful information while June wandered around the room. Dean came out a little later in his pajamas with still very-wet hair and flopped down on his bed. After a little while longer they all decided it was late enough and moved to their own sleeping locations.

\--------------

The tires of the Impala crunched on the gravel road as long-settled dust danced up and tried to coat the windows. Dean had a grumpy face on,

“Just washed this,” He mumbled, though June wasn’t paying much attention. She and Sam were both peering their windows at the small barn that was sitting contently in the middle of a field with tall, swaying grass. They pulled forward and stopped at the end where the road ended at a faded, small farmhouse. Between the barn and the house a small pond revealed itself as it reflected the light of the sun off its flat surface. As soon as they stopped June jumped up and out of the car, watching the dust settle around them and at her feet. Sam got out as well, and smiled lightly at her. She smiled back, then paused as she looked over the pond, wanting to go check it out. Easily distracted from their main point for being there, she trekked out toward the water, leaving Sam and Dean behind. She also couldn’t help but want to delay entering the feared barn.

“June, wait.” Sam said with a laugh and she heard him open the trunk for them to grab stuff. She waved over her shoulder and laughed, tilting her head curiously. She turned around to watch them with her hands on her hips, and laughed as he caught up. She watched as Dean moved toward the house, where she noticed the door was open.

“Someone broke in.” Dean shouted, then glanced inside before shrugging and walking back over to them. “Well you’re in a good mood.” He commented and shoved her shoulder playfully. She stumbled and laughed as she caught herself.

“Well yeah, Dean. This is the last one, aren’t you at a least a little excited?” He pursed his lips and nodded,

“Touché.” June looked back over at the pond as they turned around.

“Come on missy.” Dean said, and she looked over to find that had kept walking. She jogged up to them and they slowed as they reached the barn. Sam and Dean slipped in first, and she followed behind a few steps.

As soon as she walked inside she felt her feet halt in place as if they were nailed down. It was exactly the same as the things she’d seen, to the last object. The tractor in the corner, the stairs to the loft to her left, a ladder- she followed the line of objects to the empty rafter that stretched across the open space. That was where he had hung himself. Sam and Dean were both staring at the exact same location. June stepped forward to walk inside into the silence so thick she felt like she could feel it against her goose-bump ridden skin. She moved to stand beside Sam as he and Dean turned and dropped the bag to the ground. The started to get to work setting things up, taking their time simply because they were in no rush.

June walked forward a bit toward the tractor, then turned toward the loft. Suddenly there was a noise behind her from the tractor and all three of their heads snapped toward the location of the sound. A man in ragged, dirty clothes jumped up from behind the rusting machine with the surprising sight of a shaking gun in his hands. He looked homeless and as if he hadn’t eaten in a few days, and had an angry and terrified look on his stubbly face. That was all they went through June’s head before he swung the gun and shot toward the boys. They dropped to the ground and jumped into action as the wall behind them shattered and dropped splinters of wood tore from their place by the bullet. Dean dove for his bag and Sam stepped forward toward June as another shot echoed in the space- and June fell backwards as pain erupted on her chest; did she just get _shot_?

_"Mom, put that down." She cried quietly, tears boiling over and running down her cheeks. She stepped forward and her mother pointed the weapon at her child, who froze in her tracks. "What are you doing?" She whispered, starting to shake as she began to cry. Her mother sobbed as well, and shook her head lightly before pulling the trigger. The impact of the bullet hitting June's stomach sent her back a few steps and folded her over the chair._

From her sitting position on the ground June watched in shock as another shot erupted from Dean’s position and the man fell to the ground, his gun sliding through the dust. Everything felt like it was going in slow motion as she looked down and pressed her hand against her burning chest. Sam dropped down next to her, and she look up at him with wide eyes. He was talking, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. Her head started to feel like it was filled with cotton, and she felt herself cough as he started to pick her up- then everything suddenly went black. She couldn’t feel anything- not the ground, or Sam, or her own body. She couldn’t see, hear, smell, feel, or taste- just nothingness. Then she was jerking up to a sitting position.

She gasped and coughed, jerking her hands to her chest and looking down- she was fine completely uninjured. She looked around- the barn was completely empty, and she was sitting on the dusty floor alone in silence.

“What the heck?” She blurted out and got to her feet quickly, turning in circles. Where were Sam and Dean? What was going on; hadn’t she just been shot? She froze at the sight of a man standing against the wall next to the stairs. She’s never seen him before in her life.

He was tall and pale, was older, and had on a clean suit. He had a smooth black cane, was aged, had dark hair with a receding hairline, and had quite a few wrinkles. She stumbled back in surprise. He was just standing there; watching her. “Who are you?” She asked with wide eyes and looked around again. It was so quiet she could hear her heartbeat in her ears, even more so when he stepped forward with a sigh.

“Hello, June.” He said with a smooth voice that sounded completely calm and relaxed, as if this was a normal situation. Her nerves flared- how did he know her name? “Don’t worry, child.” He said and walked forward, stopping a few feet from her.

“Who are you?” She asked again, her curiosity rising and threatening to overpower her fear. He _felt_ different, but she couldn’t quite explain why.

“My name is Death.” He said nonchalantly. June’s eyebrows shot up and she blinked a few times.

“Like, _death_? Dying, deceased, death?” She asked, stumbling over her words. He nodded his head and walked around to lean against the wall near the door. She paused and dropped her eyes to the ground before returning them to him, “So I died. Again.” She stated quietly. He stared at her for a few seconds then nodded his head. But, every other time she had gone to heaven- what was this- this Death guy? “Are you a reaper?” He scoffed and nodded his head,

“So many questions. Yes, I am Death. I am a reaper, the reaper, and so on. That’s not important.” June shifted from foot to foot nervously- he was Death. _Death_. _The_ reaper, the one who controls life and death, who controls reapers- she’d heard of him once, in one book a long, long time ago. Death seemed to want them to continue and defeated their standstill smoothly.

“I’d like to talk to you, you’re very interesting.” He said and motioned toward the loft before walking up the stairs himself. June hesitated, but followed. What else could she do? Ignore the will of Death himself?

When they reached the top she found a small wooden table with three chairs around it, and Death sat down comfortably in one before motioning at the one across from him. She couldn’t explain why or how, but her curiosity had managed to defeat her fear- she was completely interested. This was Death- she couldn’t get over the fact- and he knew about her soul. Being who he is, what if he knew why she was like this? All the souls were from dead people- what if he was involved? June sat down quietly and he folded his hands on the table.

“So, June,” He started and looked up at her curiously, “Let’s talk about your soul.”


	28. Unraveling Bygones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now dealing with the deathly situation she's gotten herself into, June talks with Death himself, and even gets to see a long lost loved one, whom opens a new world of explanations for such tragedy that has racked June's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes I've made through this story, I do regularly read through and edit out any mistakes, so leave comments if there's anything too extreme.

Easily captured by the thrill of Death’s suggestion, June nodded her head and let her silence be the cue for him to continue.

“As you may know, you’re rather different when referring to your soul. What do you know about it so far?” June blinked and sat back in her seat with her hands folded politely on her lap.

“Obviously not enough,” She murmured then smiled sheepishly up at him, “I know I had bits of different dead peoples’ souls patched onto mine. And that Heaven and Hell both want me either dead or alive to disassemble.” She scoffed lightly, surprising herself with her newfound energy and brave antics. Maybe Gabriel was right- she had died so many times, that she was able to accept the fact and allow room for curiosity. Death nodded then returned his cold gaze toward her.

“Yes, and you’ve been releasing them successfully, I see.”

“Yeah, by summoning the ghost since their souls hadn’t been properly reaped because part of theirs was still alive in me.” June replied, the leaned forward with a buzz of excitement, “Do you know why all of this happened in the first place? Castiel- an angel- told me that it wasn’t possible.” She bit her tongue to stop the continuous stream of questions from releasing anymore from her sealed lips.

“Yes, June. But I have a feeling I would not be the best one to tell you.” June’s eyes lit up- this was the first being that knew why this was happening, rather than asking her- and she definitely didn’t know. His words did drop her eyebrows into a confused furrow,

“Who would be?” She asked after a few seconds of arranging and carefully plucking her words into a sentence.

“I was thinking your mother.” Everything seemed to stop suddenly as if someone had slammed on the brakes of June’s world- her mother was dead, how- she caught herself. This is _Death_ she was talking to.

To answer her doubts and confusion, Death motioned toward the chair beside her, and June watched with widening eyes as the flickering form of her mother appeared in the chair. She was obviously only there as a flame of her soul, but the urge to hug or simply feel any contact from her long-deceased mother bore into June’s every living fiber. At a loss for words, she looked over her mother. She looked exactly as she’d last seen her- minus the wheelchair- and was looking down in what appeared to be either grief or shame. Unsure as how she should even begin, she glanced from her mother to Death a few times until he spoke up.

“Allison, I think it’s time you start explaining some things to your daughter.” Her mother smiled sadly at June before running her hand through her hair calmly. Besides the shame that coated her face, she was scarily calm- almost a reflection of the calm that radiated off of Death himself. After a few seconds her mother sighed, and raised her eyes to look over June for the first time.

“June, I’m so sorry. Had I known…” She sighed again and rubbed her hand on her forehead as she gathered her words and breath. Allison’s eyes locked with June’s, which were the exact color of her daughter’s, and she dropped her hand. “This is my fault, all of it. It was against everything I was created for to bear child or unite with a human; your father. I am a reaper.” She stopped, seemingly to give June some time to process- which she was very thankful for. A reaper? But, wouldn’t she have noticed her mother _reaping souls of the dead_ in between lunch and dinner? Reapers were technically angels, created from one of God’s hands and one of Death’s to create a being with the abilities of an angel and the powers and biological basis of a reaper- which were similar to Death’s, just watered down. But _her_ mother, a _reaper_? She brought her hands up and rubbed her eyes,

“How is that possible?” She murmured, removing her hands to stare at her mother. Her mind lurched and she added, “What does that make me?” With fear shaking her voice. If her mother was a reaper, what would that make June?

“It is okay, June. You’re completely human.” The words send a wave of relief into June, but she still squinted in confusion until her mother continued. “Reapers were not created with the ability to procreate more reapers. Reapers are specifically created beings. Any offspring of a reaper, you being the first, is completely human because the genes of the human father take over where the human aspects are missing from the mother reaper. The same goes for a male reaper and human mother, technically. Though I was the first to so blatantly disregard the duties I was given to do such an act.” Her eyes flicked toward Death, who still sat calmly with his boney hands linked and resting on the table’s smooth surface.

“Well, but, how does that mess up my soul, if I’m human?” June asked even though her mind was already spinning with the massive amounts of new information being stuffed into it. Death surprised her by answering it himself,

“When you were still just developing in your mother’s womb, she continued on with her duties of reaping souls. In the time she was carrying you, she reaped four souls. Somewhere in the middle, I won’t delve into the details, bits of souls, when brought into your mother’s hands, were melded with yours because it was still forming itself. When moving the soul from one dimension to another, you by now have noticed it is normally perceived by human eyes as wisp, or glowing light. This means that the soul itself is no longer a solid, but actually in the middle a solid, liquid, and gas- a unique property that only applies to souls. During this process, it was made possible that part of the soul your mother was carrying was able to bleed into your own. Then as your soul was strengthened by that as well as getting closer to being fully created, it melded to be nearly inseparable from the alien soul.” That was almost too much for June to take in, and a wake of nausea threatened to take over her attention. Luckily her mother’s voice soothed her and returned June’s attention to those sitting with her at the table.

“Only years after you were born, I was fully aware of what had happened with your soul. This was not supposed to be possible, and discovered that the specific way you were created, fiber by fiber, was what allowed this to happen in the first place; one in a billion. I came to Death, and explained even though he was already aware of what had happened, and was given an opportunity to somewhat pay for my misdoings, as well as be the mother I’d fallen to become. He removed my grace and manipulated my being to allow me to be a human, to stay and care for you.” She shifted in her seat, looking as if she was getting comfortable for a long span of talking. “When you were four, your father and I got into a dispute for custody over your after his adulteress endangered your life-”

“What?” June asked quickly, interrupting her mother mid-sentence. “What did she do?” Allison seemed to analyze the situation before forcing out the words,

“She managed to injure you enough to take your life for six minutes,” before she specifically continued to avoid the obviously uncomfortable subject. “Your father fought at the same time to relieve her of her prosecutions, which convinced the judges to lean toward my side. When you were six I won complete custody over you. You seemed unfazed by everything that had happened until a few weeks later. You started telling me of your time in heaven, with the angels. The meant that other non-human beings besides myself knew of your existence and deformed soul, which I knew would only bring danger to you. I instructed you to never tell anyone of that experience.

“When you were seven, we got into a car accident with a human man near our home.” June nodded and gave her own comment when her mother’s words paused,

“I remembered that. I went down there, I talked to our doctor.” Her mother’s eyes clouded with confusion for the first time.

“Was that something you forgot?” She asked blatantly. June was confused at first as well, until she remembered that her mother died before Gabriel had erased her memories- her mother would know nothing about June after she killed them both on that horrid night.

“An angel erased my memory to give me a fresh start.” She had no reason to give any more details, to worry her already-dead mother about the abuse and trauma she experienced. Allison nodded, then went back into story-mode.

“The accident took the use of my legs. It was at that point I became aware that a few angels and demons had been trailing us, therefore I slipped to the familiarity that I once fell for and called your father. He took us in, and I stayed by your side as often as I could. But you soul was still growing, stretching, simply getting stronger. And if I could still feel it, then other beings that weren’t human were already on their way to track you down. When your father got back together with his adulteress, he fought for higher custody over you. He was,” she sighed, “Unaware of the danger you were in. I knew that if I was not around to protect you, they would find you, and they would be unmerciful. I of all knew that from souls whom had been the object of the demons and angel’s attention in the past. If only I had gotten to them sooner.” Her voice faded and she dropped her eyes.

 June swallowed; that was the point at which her mother killed them both in order to save June from getting worse than death. She could hear her heartbeat in her head with the nerves and thoughts blaring throughout her body. She noticed her mother kept saying adulteress- she assumed that would be Heather, but didn’t trust her own voice enough to utter even a single word. It was beginning to feel like how it was with Adam her second time, when everything came flooding back overwhelmingly fast as if a dam had broken- but this time it was being told to her, not flashing as images through her head. Though it was making her equally nauseous. Death cleared his throat, making June nearly jump out of her chair in surprise.

“Thank you, Allison. I sadly must return your soul, as you know well,” He turned his eyes to lock with June’s and nodded very lightly. Panic rose in June, blocking her throat and ability to breathe- she’d only just gotten to see her mom since she was a child, and now she was going to be torn away again?

“Can’t we wait, just a little?” She forced out, staring at Death as hot tears blurred the bottom half of June’s vision.

“Not this time, child. I’d like to test a small theory of mine.” He glanced from June to Allison, then back to June. June on the other hand had her eyes firmly locked with her mother’s. With the feeling she was tearing aged stitches out of her heart, she slowly began detaching herself from the snares of love for her mother to allow her to have her soul go back to rest. It was what was best for her mother, to be at rest; it was where she belonged. Her image already began turning slightly transparent by the time tears rolled down June’s cheeks and wrapped under her chin. She yanked her eyes back toward Death and nodded her head. Closing her eyes so she didn’t have to watch her mother’s form slip from her sight, she counted to twenty before she opened her eyes to see only Death sitting silently across from her with an amused look on her face. In a bleak attempt to distract herself from the searing loss creeping across her chest, June spoke up.

“W-what theory are you test-” She started, then everything went black. She could no longer feel anything, and no thoughts were able to be pulled into her attention, as if everything about her was muffled.

“Release it.” Death’s voice snaked into her head. Then pain flared and crawled across all inches of her body. Her lungs were screaming for air, therefore when she sucked in a breath she expected relief, but in return was rewarded with searing emanating from her chest. At this point she took the time to actually stop and think about what the _heck_ was going on.

She was laying on her back- that she could tell. Her chest felt like someone had mistaken her ribs from the string of a violin and had shredded her to get to them, and she could faintly hear _something_. She couldn’t tell what until it got louder- shuffling. The movement of clothing and feet scuffing on the ground.

“What the hell?” The words echoed in her head and stung as if they were wasps. She knew that voice- that was Dean. Suddenly her body was moving without her consent and she pried her eyes open. Which she soon regretted as light stabbed into her eyes like blades dipped in lamb’s blood.

“Hey, hey, just- oh my God,” Sam’s voice now entered her skull to bounce around as well. He sounded extremely panicked, which forced enough adrenaline into June’s body to urge her to become more aware of the situation at hand. She’s been shot- that would explain the pain. They were in the barn for the soul, which explained the layers of dust coating her sense of smell. Sam and Dean… had watched her die. How long had she been dead?

“She was very dead,” Dean’s voice picked up again.

“Just hang on,” Sam stammered to June. She refocused her vision and looked around with evident confusion on her countenance. She was crumped on the ground and Sam was kneeling and had one hand on her burning chest and another holding her shoulder down to keep her from moving. Everything swayed when she turned her head, but otherwise she felt mostly conscious.

“I-” She stared, but her throat did _not_ like her talking at the moment and forced her into a fit of coughing. The feeling of a liquid in her mouth make her uncomfortable and she swallowed it, ignoring it until she recognized the taste as blood.

“Damn it; _Cas._ ” Sam shouted, making her jump then grimace from pain. She blinked the spots from her vision and moved to sit up to stop the blood from getting in her mouth, but Sam held her shoulder down, “Stay down, it’s going to be okay.”

“We need an ambulance, our friend’s been shot in the chest. We’re at the barn of the deceased Ben Cotter,” Dean’s voice mumbled at the edge of June’s range of hearing; which was short at the moment.

“No,” She murmured roughly and brought her hands to her chest, freezing at the feel of liquid there at well. They couldn’t leave, not until they released the soul. There wasn’t as much blood on her chest as she had expected, therefore when she caught Sam turn around to glance at Dean, she took his moment of inattentiveness to use her good arm to prop herself up.

“Hey, stop, June. Stay still.” He snapped and she felt a weight on her shoulders again.

“The soul,” June said and shook her head, fighting to keep herself up with her shaky arms.

“Not important.” Sam hissed, but his hold on her wavered. June cleared her throat by coughing a few times and shook her head again despite how much it spun her vision. She was starting to feel a bit more aware- which meant she also began to feel the full extent of the wound on her chest. It was a few inches under her left collarbone. She tapped Sam’s hands and shuffled to a normal sitting position as Sam very carefully watched her with his hand remaining on the coat he had pressed against her bleeding chest. She glanced at Dean as he snapped his phone shut and sprinted to her side as well.

“Summon him.” She pleaded and grimaced visibly. Disbelief crossed Dean’s face and he shook his head and replied firmly,

“No way in-” But she cut him off,

“Death told me.” She said quieter, hoping that maybe in some way that would manage to make sense to one of them- and was just as shocked as they were at her words when Dean’s eyes lit up with recognition. He and Sam shared a quick glance before he dove for his bag and put out the last few things and began lighting candles.

Suddenly another hand was on June and she jumped then yelped in pain. Snapping her head around, she got a face-full of Castiel’s hand reaching out and pressing against her forehead while his other pressed against her chest. She whimpered at the pressure he applied but Sam speaking pulled her attention.

“Hospital Cas, now.”

“No,” June cried and duck her head from his hand.

“June,” Sam started then went silent as he started to the right of June. She frowned and followed his gaze to see Ben standing in the middle of the barn and looking down with wide eyes at his hands. He had dark hair, an overabundance of freckles, and was very tan from working outside all day. A pair of glasses sat on his nose, and he plucked them off and looked around with a wild glint in his eyes. June tapped Sam repeatedly on the hand pressing on her chest until he fumbled and handed her a knife. She didn’t even move her shirt, and just pressed the blade through the cloth and nicked herself a bit on her stomach before the pain in her chest stopped her and she blacked out as Castiel’s hands returned to her head and chest.


	29. Unwanted Appearances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While recovering, an attempt to celebrate for June and the boys goes downhill quickly. June's guardian angel comes to the rescue, but an even worse foe arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notice: For anyone who might have read this before the 5th of February, I edited this chapter near the end quite a bit, and will say this again on the next chapter, which should be the last one.

June’s entire body felt as if it was under two feet of sand. When her mind first started reaching out and testing what was working or not, she slowly starting going down a list of the things she could feel- which was short. Her head felt both empty and stuffed at the same time; her thoughts didn’t seem to last long enough to make sense, but she did have a tiny flicker of being aware of things. Her chest hurt- and that’s an understatement. She could somewhat feel her hands and feet, which was reassuring, and could feel herself breathing. Though when she dwelled on that, something didn’t feel right. Her mind clicked at the slow crawl of a snail to the realization that it was the same as after the house fire- her lungs were breathing, but she wasn’t the one doing it. That was enough to push her to extend her attention to the world around her. Her senses came flooding back in a little too fast for comfort- there was two different things making obnoxious beeping noises, the pain in her chest increased, and it smelled like coffee and bleach.

Opening her eyes was a mistake, because it awoke her mind instantly. She sat up too fast and felt something twinge fresh pain in her chest. She was in a hospital. Dean was across the room asleep in a chair, and Sam was asleep next to her bed folded over in a chair as well. The beeping had at least doubled and she jerked her head toward the source when she finally remembered the tube in his throat. Dean jumped up from the corner and froze, then sprinted to the door. Lungs burning, June started coughing and jumped when Sam shot up next to her.

“Whoa, it’s okay,” He said with wide eyes as a wave of shock and confusion coated his expression. The quick beeping of the machine to her left slowly crawled faster as she started to panic. Within seconds three more people came in and a hand firmly pushed her back a little.

“Let it breathe for you, calm down.” A nurse’s voice entered her ears, but it went in one and out the other- she needed it out. The nurse who had spoken had long black hair and was dressed in pale pink, the man holding her shoulder was dark skinned and had pale blue on, and the doctor in the middle had moved around to stand on her left. He was the one who seemed to be actually looking to help rather than restrain, so she instantly brought her hand to her throat and stared at him. He nodded and moved over to her, waving the hands of the male nurse away.

“We’re gonna get it out, okay?” He said slowly and glanced at the machines behind him. Dean’s voice brought her back to earth, even though he wasn’t even talking to her;

“What’s going on, you said you induced her,” He said and one of the nurses- the woman- turned around.

“We did.” She said sternly and returned to face June. It took a second, but they removed it and June sucked in air and wavered her hands at her throat. Leaning back, she glanced around the nurses toward Sam, who was standing and shoved past them upon making eye contact with her.

“What’s going on?” She asked quietly with a scratchy and sore voice.

“You were shot; what do you remember?” He replied and held his place even as the female nurse shoved around him to tend to shine a light in June’s eyes. She swatted weakly at her and shook her head.

“I know that, I was dead, then he brought me back- what, what’s wrong with me?” She stammered and looked around. The male nurse turned and left, which surprised her, then the doctor cleared his throat. He was rather short and had greased back blonde hair and thick-rimmed glasses resting barely on the edge of his nose.

“The bullet missed your heart but caused trauma from shock and internal bleeding. We induced a medical coma two hours ago that should have lasted days.” He reached forward and grabbed her wrist, then went silent as he took her heart rate with the watch on his wrist. June’s eyes widened and she shook her head and turned to face Sam, who had apologetic and grief ridden eyes. “What are you feeling?”

“My chest hurts,” She stated and looked over herself, “And I feel like I’m going to vomit.” She added and pressed her hand against her mouth. Everyone froze and watched her for a few seconds until she lowered her hand cautiously. The feeling passed, but her mind took the silence as an opportunity to dive back into her time with Death and her mother. Her mother was a  _reaper_ , and Death himself sat across from her at a simple table. How many people could say  _that_? She snapped her eyes toward Sam, “I need to talk to you two.” She flicked her eyes toward Dean, who had moved to stand at the foot of her bed, then locked eyes with the doctor. He seemed wary about leaving, but had checked over all her machine and prodded her enough to seemingly decide she was stable- supposed to be in a coma, but stable.

\--------------

The next two weeks were the longest and more uneventful weeks June had experienced in a long time. They kept her for two more days in the hospital, had to replace the stitches she tore when she first woke up, then sent her home with a handful of pain medications. They had wanted her longer, but after being so used to having a crazy life, sitting in a hospital bed for hours was deathly boring to June, and she began sneaking out of her room whenever the boys fell asleep or her room was void of doctors.

Then next week was mostly filled with Sam and Dean marching her back to her bed. She was feeling fine and they  _would_  have let her walk around, had she not torn another stitch the first day back at the bunker. Now they were finally letting up, and June had plans on her mind.

“Dean.” She chirped as she walked into the library, eyeing the man as he looked up from the laptop and snapped the lid quickly closed. She frowned and raised an eyebrow, “Don’t break it.” She comment and he scoffed at her.

“How’re you feeling?”

“You don’t have to keep asking that, I’m told you I’m fine,” She patted her side. They had just allowed her to remove the bandage and she was extremely glad to have her range of motion back to normal. It did hurt a little, but mostly just felt sore if she moved that shoulder or pressed on her wound.

“Still nothing soul-wise, right?” He asked and looked her over. He was dancing around the topic of her soul and the strange things the extra souls had caused, because now that they got the last one out, not a single thing had happened.

“Nope,” She said and clicked her tongue as a grin spread across her mouth, “Does that mean we can actually  _do_  something, and not sit around like potatoes?” She laughed lightly as Dean scoffed and nodded his head.

“I guess,” He sighed and glanced past her. She turned around curiously and smiled as Sam walked up with a smile on his face as well.

“What’s going on?” He asked upon seeing June’s wide grin.

“Dean said we can go actually go do something.” Sam pursed his lips and nodded before turning to Dean.

“Alright, like what?” June turned to watch Dean as well and raised her eyebrows as a cunning smirk spread across his mouth. Sam scoffed and shook his head, but June was lost-

“What?” She asked and looked between them. How did they do that; know what each other were thinking? It must be a sibling thing.

“Dean wants to go to a bar,” Sam explained and rolled his eyes.

“Okay.” June chirped, surprising both of the boys.

“What?” The both exclaimed at the same time. Laughter bubbled from her mouth and she reached up and pulled her hair out of a bun to brush her fingers through it while she spoke.

“That’s what you guys normally do, right? And it’s not like I have to drink if I go there; they have water, right?” Dean raised an eyebrow and sat back in his chair and a suspicious look on his face.

“Well, yeah, of course they have water-” His sentence cut off and he huffed out a laugh, “You’ve never been to a bar, have you?” June felt her cheeks warm lightly and knew a dust of red must have appeared there- it was true. Since she was against drinking, why would she ever have had the reason to go in one? Sam’s jaw dropped slightly ajar anyways and he scrambled for words,

“Not even once? Not ever?” He said and laughed loudly as June shook her head. A grin was still adorned on her mouth, and it was quickly decided that was where they were going. But when they first walked in, June’s stomach rolled unhappily.

“It stinks in here,” she hissed at Sam and bumped her shoulder against his. He looked around and shrugged,

“Smells like every bar I’ve been in.”

“That’s my point.” She said then snickered, looking around nervously. There were quite a few people in there. Some were hanging around the pool tables, many were at the counter with beers of all different sorts in front of them, and others were walking around or dancing as if they were very dizzy. Sam and Dean found three seats at the counter and placed themselves on either side of her because her nerves must have been showing on her face.

“You look like a fox just walked into your chicken pen; loosen up.” Dean said and elbowed her gently, careful to mind her still healing wound. She stuck her tongue out then scoffed and turned to Sam as Dean waved over a bar tender.

“Sam,” She asked and he turned to face her with raised eyebrows. “You know what I said about Death and my mom, how she was a reaper and all?” He nodded his head for her to continue, “Well, do you really think she was the first reaper to have a human kid?” he pursed his lips and then slowly nodded his head,

“Well, it’d make sense, since we’ve never seen anything similar to what happened with you. And I don’t see why they would say that if it wasn’t true- Death doesn’t really lie much.” She nodded her head then looked toward the woman bar tender as she stopped in front of her.

“What can I get’cha, doll?” She asked and leaned casually on the counter.

“Water would be great,” June answered. The woman’s eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head as she went to get a cup. When she returned June took her opportunity to question her. “Isn’t it weird working here, getting people drunk all day?” She asked, not realizing that her words came out quite rude until she’d already said that. Luckily the woman laughed before June could fret too much. She seemed to look her over then nodded her head,

“First time in a bar?” She asked and June looked down sheepishly- was it that obvious?

“Never even drank before.” Sam answered for her and scoffed. The woman, whose engraved nametag read Barb, widened her eyes.

“Well in that case, first one’s on me,” She started but June raised her hand,

“No thanks, I’ll stick with my water.” Barb shrugged and turned to talk to Sam, so June turned around and started people watching. With at least half the people there drunk, there were quite a few odd things going on. After a couple of hours the conversations between June and the boys lessened as they talked to other woman that sauntered over. A few men came to talk to June, but after her asking each why they drank, they reacted negatively and left to go back to the comfort of other drunken fools. June rolled her eyes then frowned as someone turned the music up. The air was thick with the rank odor of alcohol, the sounds of glasses on tables, the mixed babbling of many people talking at once, and was getting hot and stuffy. By now, June had had enough and slipped off her seat. Sam peeked over his shoulder at her with a questioning gaze.

“I’m gonna go outside, it reeks in here.” He nodded and she slipped silently through the people toward the door. Someone bumped her and she felt her nerves buzz- maybe going there wasn’t the best idea if it was making her so nervous. But glancing back showed her that both Sam and Dean were having a good time, so she slipped outside into the cool air with a light smile on her lips. It was dark out by now, and the silence and pure air was wonderful when compared to inside the bar. She thought maybe going there would give her a little insight as to why people would drink in the first place, but she was even more confused, if anything. The door opened again and a couple walked out, the man stumbling a bit. Why dump fluids into your body that ravaged your ability to think straight? Isn’t thinking straight something we work toward on a daily basis, something needed to function as a normal person? She shook her head and leaned against the wall.

The door opened again and a man walked out and stuffed his hands in his pocket. He glanced at her and nodded his head, walking over and leaning against the wall a few feet over. Upon glancing at him, she realized he was one of the men she’d questioned earlier- he’d laughed and asked if she was even of drinking age before leaving back to his friends. Technically she was twenty, even though a few of her fake IDs said otherwise. Now he just stood respectfully and stared ahead, sharing her silence for a few minutes.

“You know,” He started and broke the silence, pulling her attention and eyes to him. “If you want a break from in there, we can go somewhere.” June could smell the stink of alcohol in his breath from there and sighed.

“No thanks, I’m here with some friends of mine.”

“Well then how come you’re out here?” He slurred and shoved off the wall and walked to stand beside her, thinking he’d caught her lying.

“Because I think I was getting drunk on just the smell alone.” She said slyly and rolled her eyes. She brought her hands up and pulled them through her hair- she’d brushed it out and pulled it down from a bun earlier, so now it was back to her regular, bouncy, blonde curls. She swished it behind her shoulders and glanced at the man, jumping as he had moved closer than expected. She straightened up and frowned.

“Come on doll-face, let’s go somewhere.” He tried again and walked to stand in front of her. Feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand up, she shook her head and slipped to the side so her back wasn’t to the wall as a precaution.

“No, I don’t think so.” She replied and narrowed her eyes. Something felt off- besides this drunk man trying futilely to get her to go somewhere with him.

“It wasn’t a question,” he said and laughed, stepping toward her again. She ducked away and he ground his jaw before relaxing again. His head tilted to the side curiously and he sighed loudly. “Come on, June.” He murmured and she stiffened. She hadn’t told him her name. At the same time as she stepped backwards once more his eyes flashed black- demon. Her fight-or-flight instincts kicked in and she skipped backwards out of reach. He lurched forwards and she slipped to the side, though she didn’t time it good enough and he managed to grab her shoulder. Her other hit the wall to her side and she flinched- his thumb was pressing painfully close to her wound. She had nothing to protect herself with- she hadn’t thought to bring salt or iron, and her coat was still perched on her chair. He shoved her so her back was against the wall and the second his grasp wavered she pulled her knee up to her chest and kicked him hard in the gut. He coughed and stumbled backwards, but rebounded faster than she had expected. A snarl rolled from his mouth and he punched her in the stomach. When she doubled over he shoved her shoulder back against the wall. She yelped- this time he was pressing on her injured shoulder enough to make her worry about her stitches. He paused then glanced at her shoulder before smiling curiously and pressing his thumb into her shoulder. She hissed in response and he scoffed.

“How’d you fix your soul, kid?” He asked and learned his face toward hers. Her stomach churned at the smell of his breath and she turned her head to the side and tried to shy from his grasp. Her lack of response made him growl and slam his free hand on the wall next to her head. Panic rose into her chest and she wrapped her hands around the wrist of his hand pressing painfully into her shoulder since it was starting to emit searing pain. When he didn’t budge the severity of the situation weighed down in his mind and she sucked in a breath.

“Gabriel.” She spat out, letting go of his wrist and stuffing her hand into her hair. The demon huffed,

“S’not my name, sweetheart,” He replied, but sounded half-distracted. He smack her hand and pulled it from her hair to inspect what she was doing. The thought of his hell-grime-covered hands in her hair pushed her into action and she swung her knee up to connect with his stomach; he barely even flinched. Not a second later a hand came from behind him and hooked on his chin, jerking him backwards. Gabriel’s form was in June’s view for a second before he spun the demon around and planted his hand onto its forehead. A brilliant white light flashed and June covered her eyes and let her shaky legs rest by sliding down with her back against the wall to sit on the gravel. She heard the sound of something- someone- falling to the ground, and when she opened her eyes and moved her arms Gabriel was crouching in front of her. His breathing was increased and he reached forward and placed a hand on her forehead to tilt her head to see her face.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” He said quickly and dropped his hands to hover them near her knees. She shook her head then paused- he had blood on his sleeves. Was she bleeding? Because the demon hadn’t been, not that she knew of. She rolled forward to a kneel and gently grabbed his wrist,

“Are  _you_  hurt?” She countered and looked up at him with concern filling her eyes. He laughed lightly and seemed to relax a bit before standing up and reaching down to help her up as well.

“You should see the other guy,” He joked and ran his hand through his hair before going silent.

“What happened?”

“We’ve sort of got a little bit of a problem,” He smiled sheepishly at her, “Heaven and Hell are pretty ticked off that your back to normal, but they aren’t giving up just yet. This,” he lifted his sleeve where the blood was, “Is because a scuffle broke out up in heaven. He,” He kicked the limp body of the demon that was behind him, “was probably part of the group that’s forming down in Hell.” June blinked then shook her head,

“But, Gabe, my soul is normal now, I can’t make it go back, my mom said it was one in a billion,” But Gabriel cut her off with a raise of his hand.

“They don’t care. Which is why you need to stick with the boys and tail it back home, now. They know where you are now.”

“But who’s ‘they’? What’s is the group that’s forming?” Gabriel visibly ground his jaw and dropped his eyes.

“You know that demon who had you a while back?” He said quietly with a cautious tone to his voice. June stepped back as her mind spun;

“Adam?” She asked in disbelief. She hadn’t heard anything from him for a while now, so he had slipped from her mind. Apparently now that she had fixed it, they think she knows how to change a soul like hers was- which was somewhat true- but still; her soul was normal now, couldn’t they just move on? Gabriel stiffened and in flash of movement he swept his arm over her shoulder and shoved her behind him.

“Gabe, what-” And she suddenly fell onto her butt in the middle of the kitchen in the bunker. Complete confusion flooded into her veins and soaked into her mind- he’d teleported her back into the bunker. She slowly got to her feet in the eerie silence and looked around.

“Gabe?” She asked quietly, but closed her mouth as it felt weird to disturb the silence that had settled around her. She broke into a sprint out of the kitchen and caught her hand on the frame of her door to swing into her room. She dropped to her knees at her dresser and pulled the drawer all the way out, nabbing the phone that slid into view. She took a few seconds to dial in Sam’s phone number, the beeps and clicks loud in her dark and quiet room. She brought her hand up and lightly pressed it against her shoulder which was still throbbing. It rung until the voicemail- no answer. She felt her breath catch in her throat and ended the call, dialing in Deans- also no answer.

“Crap.” She muttered and got to her feet. Weaving her fingers into her hair, she paced back and forth a few times. They boys were gone, not answering her calls, her car had no gas, and Gabriel didn’t seem to be answering; there was nothing June could do but sit and wait, and that thought flared anger into her head.

“Castiel?” She shouted and dropped weakly onto the ground to sit with her back against the side of her bed. “Something’s wrong, there was a demon at the bar, Sam and Dean aren’t answering.” She waited a few seconds then after no answer, she sucked in a shaking breath and leaned her head back. All she could do was wait.

\---------------

The sound of metal clanking incredibly loud next to June’s ear woke her up and sent her scrambling to her feet. She’d dragged a blanket up to the top of the stairs and had been waiting at the door, but apparently she’d fallen asleep. As soon as she was to her feet the door swung open in front of her revealing Sam rushing in. He froze when he saw her then visibly relaxed and walked over, throwing his hands over her shoulders in a hug.

“Thank God.” He sighed and stepped back, peering over his shoulder and out the door into the dark. It had been nearly two hours that June had waited at the door and this was the first contact she had with the boys since the bar.

“What happened?” She asked and Sam turned back to look at her. He had an odd expression on his face, almost nervous, and bit his lip.

“June, you should go wait in the library.” He said stiffly, his words slowing June’s blood in her veins.

“What?” She asked and frowned, her mind stumbling, “Why?” She could hear Dean walking toward the door, but Sam was blocking her.

“Just go.” Sam snapped and June flinched. She nodded quickly and dropped her eyes as she jogged down the stairs. She turned around at the bottom and looked up with wide eyes.

“Go, June.” Sam shouted then leaned out the door. She crossed her arms nervously but obeyed and loped to the library and leaned in the doorway. She couldn’t see them from there, but it sounded like there were three sets of feet on the stairs, and not two. When they got into view her confusion was only doubled.

Another person was walking with them, a woman, but she had some engraved handcuffs on and a bag with a devil’s trap painted on it over her head. Dean was pulling her from in front, and Sam was walking behind.

“Sam, what the heck?” She snapped and stepped forward.

“Long time no see, Juney-Bug,” the smooth female voice came from the hooded figure. Recognition locked in June’s mind and sent waves of chilling fear down her spine and arms- as well as confusion. The person standing in front of her, whose voice she knew all-too-well, was most definitely Heather's. That alone was enough to stop her breath in her throat, but something was off. She'd only known three people to ever call her by that nickname- Her dad, her mom, and Adam. That was _Adam_ they were holding hostage, but wrapped in cloak of _Heather's_ body. She stepped back into the library with wide eyes and stumbled over a chair, barely managing to catch herself. Why was Adam here? Why Heather? How did they catch him- why were either of them still alive?  _What was going on?_ Swallowing her fear as adrenaline started to bleed into her body, she walked out and peeked down the hall the three had gone into, seeing only one door open. Terror still ran down her arms and spine like ice cubes had formed between each vertebra, but being alone at this moment was also a frightening idea. It was as if both of her worst nightmares had gotten married and adopted her. 

When she walked in she realized she was in that room she’d seen once before, the storage room with a third of a devils trap going under the shelves- but the shelves were gone. They had been shoved aside, revealing a hidden room behind them. It had a table and a chair on top of a huge devil’s trap, a ton of other protection sigils, a wall of sharp objects and chains, and currently the boys were shoving Heather- Adam- down onto the chair and hooking his chains to the floor. The bag was still on her head, which was a relief, but every fiber of June’s body was screaming for her to run and never come back.

“Sam, what’s going on?” She asked quietly, and he stood up to stand in front of their captive to block her- him- from view.

“Get out, June.” Sam snapped harshly and she flinched. He must have caught the hurt and fear that flashed into her eyes, because when she slipped into the hall to lean against the wall he followed her. “Wait,” he asked. June had her hands on her face and was attempting to even her breathing and sooth her fear, so when he touched her shoulder she panicked and dropped to the ground covering her head. She glanced through her arms at him as he crouched down then slowly lowered her arms. He looked hurt that he’d triggered her, but shoved that aside and glanced at the door they’d come from- where Adam was. “We need to know what he knows if we’re going to stop the demons.” He explained softly. He was right, if they were going to stop them or even protect June, they needed to cut the snake off at the head. She nodded and silently got to her feet with her arms crossed over her chest. Sam looked as if he realized her actions and shifted in place as he stood back up as well.

“No, you will not go in there.” He crossed his own arms and stared at her.

“They can’t hurt me all locked up like that, right?” She asked timidly. He hesitated then nodded his head sharply. “He’ll talk to me.” She ducked her head and slipped around him into the room, ignoring Sam’s calls.

“June, wait.” He tried, but she skipped out of reach and stopped where the shelves used to stand as Dean, oblivious to June’s arrival, pulled the sack off Heather’s head.

Her eyebrow was spit open and she had a black eye and some bruises from what looked like a pretty uneven fight. As soon as her eyes were revealed they instantly locked onto June and flashed black eerily.

“Hello my dear friend,” She- though it was Adam talking- murmured, let a grin play across her mouth, and then tilted her head to the side sharply to interject, “Missed you.”


	30. Clouds Roll Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a complicated talk with their prisoner, the action manages to pick back up and pull June and the Winchesters into a heavenly fight that brings positive closure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter guys- Very excited ;)

Instantly June realized she’d made a fatal error when calculating her bravery. Under the unwavering gaze of Heather’s now black eyes she crumpled like a leaf, stumbling backwards until she bumped into Sam’s firm form.

“Get her out of here.” Dean’s voice rose from beside Heather, and he moved to stand in front of June’s line of sight. “Come on.” He said quieter, but still stiffly, as he grabbed her upper arm and pulled her toward the door.

“What happened?” She asked through a daze create by fear and complete confusion. When they were in the hallway she dug her heels into the ground and raised her hands up to entangle them into her hair. “What is going on?” She asked, finally turning to look at Dean with wide eyes. He had blood on his knuckles and the start of a black eye, but was otherwise unscathed. He also had a searing look of anger on his face that surprised June enough to make her step backwards from him. When he stopped and noticed her reaction the agitated look slipped from his features.

“Cas came in spitting about you and demons, when we got outside I got a fist-full of Adam’s freaking wiry fist.” He crossed his arms stiffly to look her over, and it wasn’t until then she noticed her arms were shaking. She dropped them back to her sides, then nervously crossed them at her stomach. “I don’t think he knew you were with us, came alone. Three against one, but that chick’s slippery.” He glanced over his shoulder back at the room before returning his gaze to June. That chick? A rabbit trail of a thought opened up in June’s mind- he’d sad “that chick”; did neither of them know it was Heather? Neither had said her name or hinted about her, not even Sam. It would make sense, because neither of them had even seen her- Dean _maybe_ glances, if even that.

Now she stood at a solemn crossroads; One, she could tell them. But there was no telling how they would react to knowing that that was Heather they had captive. Or two- she could simply not tell them. But that might psychologically scar June more than she already was, and it was likely Adam was twisted enough to use Heather as a weapon. Dean’s voice brought her back to attention.

“You should leave, go back to your room. We’ve got this.” It was a nice idea- slipping away to take refuge in the safety of her room. Neither Heather nor Adam were going to get to her with the Winchesters between them and her. But this is Adam _and_ Heather- both of them most likely know things about her that June didn’t know yet. How did Adam get her the first time? Heather most likely had stayed with June’s father, so why hadn’t he looked for her? Why did she die when she was four, why did Heather’s hatred for June run so deep? Why the heck was Adam possessing _her_ , of all the millions of other people it could have been?

“If they know things about me, I wanna know.” June replied weakly and let out a stressed sigh.

“They?” Dean asked, his face contorting into confusion and suspicion. June stiffened- guess it was road one.

“Do you know who that is, the woman?” She asked and pointed at the door silently. Dean twisted his head over his shoulder, but the shelves were in their line of sight. He turned back toward her with his eyes narrowed before turning and stalking back into the room. He stopped where the shelves had been moved from, and June followed in behind with silent footsteps. She kept her eyes on his back rather than daring to let them stay toward Heather- Adam- who had going scarily silent.

“What?” Sam asked and glanced between June and Dean. Being right behind Dean, it was easy for her to see when he visibly stiffened from recognition. Though she did not quite expect him to quietly slip the demon-killing blade from his pocket and cross the distance between him and Heather in two steps. Sam luckily had noticed something was up and already jerked Dean backwards before June had even reacted.

“Whoa, Dean, what the heck?” He snapped and dug his heels into the ground as Dean tugged to get his arm back.

“Let me go.” He spat, but Sam’s height gave him a slight advantage and he jerked Dean back and slipped to stand in front of him, pressing against his older brother’s chest to keep him from moving.

“Calm down.” He shouted. June had scampered backward from the action to stand near the doorway, watching it all unfold with wide eyes. Dean mumbled a few curses then broke into a surprising shout.

“It’s Heather!” He snarled as his chest rose and fell as he fought to contain the anger that had sprouted within him. Sam faltered for a second and spun around to look at Heather. She sat comfortable with her legs crossed, and because her wrists were still chained, her hands were simply crossed on top of the table. She had on a snarky leer and proudly swung her eyes around to meet each of their stares one by one before stopping at June once more.

“Truly terrifying; the best forms of torture are almost always psychological.” June could see the two brothers move out of the corner of her eye, but she had already turned and ducked from the room with her hands clamped over her ears. That voice- Of course she’d heard Heather shouting at her before in way too many nightmares, but this normal talking was almost more unsettling. The worst was that it instantly brought her back to when she was younger. Not actual images, thank God, but it still gave her the same mindset- fear like walking on eggshells with cinderblocks tapes to her feet. She leaned her forehead against the wall and sucked in a shaky breath.

“June, go to your room,” She heard Sam say, but it only half registered in her head. Heather was there, in the bunker. Adam was there, in the bunker. In the place she’d come to know as the safest place she’d ever had the luck to come across. When her hands began shaking once more she stuffed them into her hair and quieted her breathing to listen into the room.

“Cool it, Dean. We have to know what he knows.” Sam started, but Dean spoke before his younger brother could say anything else.

“We’ve got our two most wanted in one spot, one shot-“

“That’s the point. We’ve _got_ them, they’re not going anywhere.”

“They deserve to die more than we need information.” Dean’s voice had lowered to a gravely growl, and Sam didn’t sound very happy either.

“Oh, I’ve definitely got information,” Heather’s voice rung out clearly since she wasn’t trying to be quiet like the boys had been. “But not for you.”

“Shut your trap you-” Dean started at the same time as Sam out-voiced him,

“June, go to your room.” He shouted once more. June instantly kicking into a fight or flight response and sprinted backwards down the hallway until she crashed into the table in the kitchen. Quickly she fell on her back as a chair seemingly appeared at her feet. The chair fell and knocked the table, and her head knocked on the ground almost as loudly. The edges of her vision blurred a little, but she quickly sat herself up when footsteps approached her. Though when a hand touched her wrist she jerked her hand against her chest and scooted backwards.

“It’s okay, it’s just me.” Sam said quietly through clamped teeth. June pushed her hands through the hair on the top of her head then brought them down to press her palms against her closed eyes.

“He’s not gonna talk to you guys.” She mumbled and dropped her hands as her nerves settled like sand in a water bottle. Sam stood from the kneeling position he had entered and opened his mouth, but snapped it shut at a loss for words. “You know that.” She added and looked up at him. He reached down and helped her back to her feet before sighing and rubbing his forehead.

“We’ll make him talk, just go to the library, or your room- we’ve got this.” He replied with a tired voice.

“Hey June,” Heather’s voice rang down the hall softly, “Wanna know a secret-” but her voice cut off suddenly. Sam turned and sprinted back with June following a bit slower, most likely assuming the same thing as June- that Dean might have actually killed them. Sam’s form blocked June from seeing Heather, but he relaxed visibly, which informed June everything was still all right. Well, as all right as this situation could be. She peeked around him to get a glance at what was happening. Dean was standing eerily still behind Heather with the knife to her throat, but his stance showed that he wasn’t going to pull anything; not yet. He glanced at June and lowered the knife slowly before locking eyes with Sam. They once again seemed to understand each other through a simple glance, and Sam turned to face June.

“You shouldn’t be in here, believe me.” He tried, but June shook her head slightly. This was probably the only chance she was going to have to find out the missing links in her past, and with the engraved iron chains and devil’s trap neither Heather nor Adam could get to her.

“He’ll talk to me.” She repeated once again, then glanced at Heather as she scoffed.

“Smart girl. Always been smart.” Adam seemed to almost look her over as a sly smile pulled across Heather’s lips. Dean twitched, but stepped away from the table to stand with his back against the wall to watch with a sharp glare covering his visage. Sam moved a bit as well, but it was obvious he was not at all happy about June being in there at all, much less talking to Adam or Heather.

She looked exactly as June remembered her- slightly wavy dark brown hair parted on the side and swept behind her shoulders, icy blue eyes, and an overall charming and kind appearance- a complete opposite from how she really was. To everyone who met her, she seemed to be this wonderful person who worked as a veterinary assistant, saving animals and always smiling with her extra-white teeth. She must have had June’s father under her spell as well- at least until he found out how she was treating June. That whole event was still rather confusing to June- her dad had saved her, so what happened after that to get her caught by Adam and have her memory erased? Didn’t her father look for her?

“What did you do?” Heather hissed, breaking June’s train of thought. The tone of Heather’s voice sent instant chills up her spine and she stepped back slightly. “What did you do to your soul?” She said again and sat up straighter in her chair. The kind smile had very quickly twisted into an angered snarl. It was obvious Adam could tell June’s soul was back to normal, and he was extremely unpleased to discover that. Dean reached forward and at first June couldn’t tell what he’s done until he pulled back to reveal a long cut across Heather’s collarbone. She hissed then broke into a cackling laughter. Sam moved to step in front of June at the same time as Heather- no, Adam- calmed down and let out a sigh. “That’s a shame. But this’ll work too.”

“You’re not gonna be doing anything.” Sam said with a proud scoff. It was true- Adam was completely powerless and trapped.

“You think I don’t know that?” Heather snapped while keeping her voice still smooth. Her eyes rolled back toward June and her wide smile returned. “Elephant in the room, child.” June’s heart leapt and she squatted down with her hands over her ears, instantly fighting away memories of her previous bout of time with Adam. Sam moved into action and knelt down to try and get June to stand up so he could get her out of the room.

“Okay, time to go.” Dean announced and walked over. He very gently slipped his hands under her arms and pulled her to her feet.

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” June stammered and Dean looked her over with suspicion eyes before nodding his head.

“How much do you even know?” June countered toward Heather and crossed her arms anxiously.

“Everything.” Heather chimed in a singsong tone then grinned widely. June heard Sam and Dean shift behind her, and turned to glance as Sam walked over to stand against the wall, but still generally in between Heather and June protectively. “Of course I was missing some links in the chain, but this one,” Heather patted her chest, “This one’s a gold mine.” June could easily believe that. Though the fact that he was still hunting her down let her know that he still didn’t know about her mother being a reaper or any of that, so that was comforting.

“Start talking.” Dean said, drawing June’s attention temporarily to him before she returned her wary eyes back to Heather.

“Only her.” Heather smirked and nodded her head at June.

“This isn’t a negotiation,” Dean said with a single laugh. Heather raised her hands and nodded her head,

“Sheesh, this is how you treat you friends, June?” June stiffened and narrowed her eyes,

“You are not my friend.” She replied quietly, finally finding a glimmer of courage strong enough to look Heather in the eyes. Heather faked surprise then rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair.

“That’s not very nice, we go back a long way- at least, Heather and you do.” June paused at that and tilted her head to the side slightly before answering.

“How far?” Heather’s smile pulled into a satisfied grin because she knew she had June hooked.

“You were just a wee one, barely scraping at four years old.” Four years old? The earliest time June could remember Heather ever being in her life was after June’s mother committed suicide. “It’s all in here, she has a good memory too.” Heather added and pointed at her head before dropping her hands back onto the table. “Ooh,” she exclaimed and pursed her lips, “Looks like Daddy was having an affair with Heather here- He was ready to leave your dear Mommy for this one. But there was one little problem- sweet Daddy wasn’t going to leave his precious little girl behind. No, he was starting to choose you over her, but she couldn’t allow that, now could she?” She sat back to watch June’s reaction, which wasn’t much more than pure confusion. All of this was sounding familiar, but she couldn’t quite reach the memory, like having a taste in your mouth but not being able to describe what it actually was. She caught Sam and Dean share a glance out of the corner of her eye before snapping her eyes back to Heather.

“She was the reason I died when I was four?” June stammered out then dropped her eyes in thought. Everything felt like it was going too fast, and the realization dropped her jaw ajar slightly.

“Wait, what?” Dean muttered and snapped his fingers to get June’s attention.

“I died when I was four, but I didn’t know why or how or anything.” June explained with her eyes still scouring the floor. So the abuse from Heather had been life-long?

“Yep,” Heather said and clicked her tongue, “Snuffed you out with a pillow. Didn’t fight long, did you?”

“Okay, we’re done.” Dean declared and walked to June, grabbing her arm and pulling her once more to the door.

“Dean wait-“

“No.” He replied stiffly and stopped them both once in the hallway.

“I have to know all of this, I can’t just leave,” June started, but Dean butted in easily,

“We’ll tell you afterwards.” He stated and glanced over his shoulder.

“He’ll talk to me, he already said he’d talk to me.” June mumbled but her voice was broken and shaky. Maybe Dean was right. Now that she wasn’t distracted, the amount of fear coursing through her body became quickly apparent and she ran her fingers through her hair nervously. Where they were standing they could barely see Heather, but it was enough to see her run her fingers across her mouth, childishly pretending to zip her lips sealed. Dean turned back to June and pressed his hand on her back to get her to keep walking.

“We’ll make her talk, this is hurting you more than it’s helping.”

“Dean, you don’t get it,” June blurted out and ducked from his grasp to slip behind him. He turned around with an annoyed look on his face, but it faded when he saw her serious visage. “All of my life I have been working myself to the bone to figure out what the heck I don’t didn’t know about my life. I didn’t know _anything_ , Dean. Not my parents, or my childhood, or anything for the first ten years of my life- Don’t you understand? _I lost Ruth for this._ We’re so close to figuring all of this out and fixing everything.” She finished her rant by crossing her arms and letting out a sharp sigh. Dean looked her over, then slowly nodded his head.

“She makes one move and I’m personally carving out her heart.” He was still on edge, but the comment sounded so characteristically Dean-like that June huffed out a quiet laugh. He stared at her for a few seconds before turning around and heading back to the room. Sam was standing in the doorway with a concerned look concealing his anger toward Heather. He didn’t say a single word as all three moved back to stand a good distance from the table. “Go.” Dean snapped and pointed the knife at Heather before crossing his arms once again. Adam seemed to take the hint and nodded Heather’s head.

“Where were we- Ah, yes, June died. Quite a common thing for you, huh?” Heather joked slyly.

“Why are you saying all of this?” Sam quickly inserted with a suspicious glare.

“Because, Bigfoot, June here sparks my interest.” She answered with obviously faked innocence. “I also happen to know when it’s in my favor to submit; I’m not an idiot.” Her eyes narrowed as well, though Sam quieted down once again. “You know, Daddy fought hard to bring you back, but you were dead long enough to get to Heaven- that’s when my little snitches let me know something was _definitely_ different about you.” She was now once again watching June with carefully analyzing eyes. “Heather here obviously was sent to do some years for her crimes, but silly Daddy was still in love with her. Fought to get her out- and then, just as she was released with a sentence shortened by going through psychological therapy, you crawled back in to tear the stiches. Poor baby and her mommy got in a car accident, and now Daddy had to help out. After mommy filled you both with bullets, he took you in _again._ ” June shivered and leaned against the shelf to her right, still nervously watching Heather. That point in her life was right when Heather had starting abusing June.

“They always say jealousy can drive a woman crazy, but I didn’t believe it until this one. The things people will do these days to get what they want- I guess souls aren’t as valuable to humans these days.” Sam spoke before June could even register the new information,

“She made a deal?” He asked with a slightly bewildered tone and shifted on his feet.

“How else would I have gotten into this little friend group; hello, demon?” She pointed both thumbs at herself and laughed lightly. So Heather made a deal with a demon? What would she even ask for?

“So what- her soul for June’s dads affection?” Sam spat with a disgusted tone, asking June’s questions before she even could. Heather laughed loudly and June jumped, noisily banging her elbow on the metal shelf’s frame. Sam gave her a wary glance and she nodded to say she was okay- maybe she was starting to learn the silent language of glances he and Dean shared.

“Of course not- that’s unfair to me.” Heather replied hotly. “No, she’s a complicated woman, learned my terms and meticulously covered every component. I would erase Daddy’s memory of June and the wife, so that Heather here could have him as her own unhindered. In return, she would sign her soul over to me, and pick me up just a little thing off my to-do list, sitting innocently at school behind her desk.” Once again June felt her world halt around her and she instantly blurted,

“What?” Not only did Heather sell her own soul to a demon, kill June when she was four, and abuse her later, but she also _gave her to a demon_? What was wrong with this woman? _That_ was how Adam got her to first time- Heather literally handed June over to him? So many questions had stuffed into her head and multiplied enough to be overwhelming. “No, no if my dad loved her, how could she do all of this? He would have known.” A feeling of panic started to rise in her- what was with her terrible luck? A hand touched her shoulder and she jumped backwards to get away from it. Sam stood with his hands raised defensively and had a forced-calm expression on his face.

“Come on, let’s go.” He said and motioned toward the door. June shook her head and covered her ears with her hands as if the silence would help her think. Suddenly she was hit again with the memories of the first time with Adam, the images she’d seen while tied up the last time. It was just as she’d seen before, but it was enough that she dropped to sit on the ground with her knees pressed against her chest. She was only ten years old when it first happened- how could Heather hand over a ten-year-old child to demon? The child of the man she loved, she girl who she’d watched grow up? She moved to rub her eyes and found water, and it took a few seconds to realize she’d been unwilling crying. She moved them and jumped as Sam at the same time gently slipped his arm under her knees and the other on her back. He attempted to pick her up to get her out of the room, but she panicked at first and pushed against his chest to try and get away.

“You’re fine, it’s okay.” He said quickly and ignored her escape attempts until they were in the hall. With everything happening so fast, all the new information, as well as being bombarded with the two people she feared most, June finally broke. She let him silently carry her back to her room since she wasn’t sure her legs would even work at the moment, and pressed her face against his shoulder in an attempt to keep herself calm. “It’s okay.” He repeated quietly as he nudged her door open with his foot. He set her down and sat next to her, and she contently leaned against his side. It was silent for few minutes until June broke it.

“That was all.” She commented quietly, but he frowned in confusion. “That was all I had left to find out, the last things I didn’t know.” Realization shone on his face and a small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “And now, we have the demon who’s controlling the search for me.” Sam sighed and nodded his head, leaning it against the wall with a content look on his face.

“Might sound crazy, but this went smoother than other situations Dean and I have gotten ourselves into. All we have left is the angels, right?” He mused then tilted his head to glance at her. June nodded her head and crossed her legs.

After a little while longer of relaxing silence Sam sighed and got to his feet.

“Sam?” June asked and looked down to fiddle with a wrinkle on her bed. He raised his eyebrows curiously and nodded his head. “You’ll exorcise him, right? Heather might have made some _incredibly_ stupid decisions, but she’s still a human, we can’t just… kill her.” Sam closed his eyes and shifted in place.

“I swear, there is no one you won’t forgive- You honestly want her alive? After everything she’s done- sold you to a _demon_?” He rubbed his face then crossed his arms to stare at her. June rolled her eyes and glanced at him before dropping them once more.

“She can live- but, not near me.” She smiled weakly and Sam scoffed, turning and stopping in the doorway.

“I’m going back in there with Dean. You stay here, and I’ll come get you if anything important happens.”

\-------------

Well, something important happened. At least, that was what June suspected when a knock echoed against her door and Sam scooted in. He had a look of a perfect mix of agitation and nerves.

“What?” June asked quickly and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Sam sighed and raised his hand to calm her down.

“We ran into a speedbump. Her ten-year deadline on the deal ended a week ago. If we exorcise him, we’ll have a pack of hellhounds tearing up the floor.” June’s eyes widened and she murmured,

“Crap,” before getting to her feet. “And there’s no way to call ‘em off? I thought Adam was the one who took the deal, can’t he call it off?” She ground her teeth as Sam shook his head and glanced around the room in thought.

“We’ve forced so much salty holy water in him that he’s pretty much sweating blood, but I don’t think he’s breaking any.” He locked eyes with her and shifted nervously in his place. “We’re running out of options, June.”

“I know.” She murmured and twisted her hair in her fingers. “Our job’s to kill the monsters, not the people though.”

“She is a monster, she’s done worse some of the creatures I’ve killed.” Sam mumbled before walking back into the hall with June following, “Normally I’d say we bring her somewhere else, exorcise him there, and then get the heck outta dodge. But think about it, June. If we exorcise him he’ll just go back to hell to build an army- we can’t let him live.” June slowed in place. Of course Heather was a terrible person, but was it really their place to just kill her? But he _was_ right; they couldn’t let Adam go for anything. She rubbed her eyes then sighed and jogged to catch back up with Sam.

“Alright.” She said quietly. Sam stopped in his tracks and looked her over. Nodding slowly he ran his hand through his hair.

“Okay. You should go back to your room.”

“Sam?” She interjected as he started to head back to the storage room.

“Yeah?” He chirped and turned to face her.

“Could you not… do it here?” She smiled sheepishly at him. He paused for a minute before responding.

“Of course, yeah. I’ll get Dean,” He replied enthusiastically, “Go back to your room and we’ll be out in ten minutes.” June smiled thankfully and nodded her head. She waited until he rounded the corner then trekked silently back to her room. In an attempt to distract her mind from the idea of them euthanizing a human, she shuffled into the bathroom and began braiding her hair back. After a few minutes she jumped at the sound of the door of the bunker opening and slamming shut- they must have just left. She finished her braid then poked her head out the door, creeping around the corner. There was a stiff silence presiding over everything, which let her know they were gone for sure- none of them were habitually silent like herself.

Therefore, when the sound of footsteps from behind her entered her ears she reactively slipped her knife out and jerked to turn around to face the oncoming person with a stable protective stance. Her hands wavered and she dropped them upon recognition,

“Gabriel?” She asked and slipped the knife away. She wasn’t even able to remove her hand from her pocket when he grabbed he tapped her hand she’s just removed the knife from.

“Go back to your room and put up angel warding.” He said quickly and bluntly.

“What?” June murmured and blinked in surprise.

“Where are Sam and Dean?” He asked and walked around her, looking around.

“They- they left, with Adam. And Heather, I guess- what’s going on?” He turned back to face her hand ran his hands through his hair.

“Angels are coming, now go.” He said and pushed her gently back toward her room. “Where did they go, did they tell you?” She shook his head at his question and backed toward her room.

“How do they even know where I am? I thought I was warded-” June started, but the angel cut her off,

“Go, lock your door and put warding up everywhere- on the walls and door.” She nodded and jogged to her door. “Don’t touch your feather!” He added, his voice reaching her ears as she locked her door. How did angels even know where she was? Who? How many of them were coming that Gabriel was so freaked out about?

“Gabe?” She called as she leaned against the door.

“Come on, I told you to put warding up.” He said from the other side of the room. She shoved off the door and ran her hands through her hair,

“Gabe, what the heck is going on?”

“Don’t do that,” He snapped and gently shoved her hand back to her side. She flinched and nodded her head silently.

“I’ve been watching the best I can without alerting heaven of my whereabouts, and I caught movements. Something happened, someone got word out of where you were, I can’t tell you all the details.” He ground his teeth and made of a point of making eye contact. “Don’t touch your feather. Ward this room, and don’t come out until I, Castiel or one of the Winchesters says otherwise. Okay?” His words were rushed and thick with concern, so she vigorously nodded her head and moved to her dresser. There was a sharpie there that would have to do. When she turned back around he was gone, therefore she got to work. She knew quite a few different sigils used for angel warding, but she pulled her book out anyways.

She only had time to draw up three before her name was called out.

“June?” Sam shouted and she heard three sets of footsteps jogging toward her door. She fumbled to unlock it and shoved it open, barely missing hitting Dean. Sam and Castiel were beside him, and Castiel spoke before June even could;

“There are angels on their way here.” He explained, but seemed to stop mid-thought and whipped his head around to look toward the library. Within the same second there was the sound movement, invisible around the corner. He and Dean both lurched around the corner, and Sam surprised June by jerking her to his side. She quickly understood why when she turned to face two men standing where they would have been behind her. Sam, most likely not out of coincidence, pulled and held out an angel’s blade as the sound of fighting started toward the library. The closer man, a tall and older man with pointed features and gray hair, moved forward and swept out his arm, knocking against Sam’s hands.

“Go, go!” Sam snapped and June moved out of harm’s way to the end of the hallway. From there she could see not only Sam and the two angels, but Dean and Castiel with three more. Two were standing defensively, and Dean was just kicking an angel away from him. Castiel noticed June and moved to her side, causing Dean to do the same. A light erupted in the hall and Sam dropped a dead angel’s body then moved to stand back to back with Dean. The four angels left regrouped and stood a few feet from them. In the silence only broken by the huffs of people trying to catch their breath it seemed like a chest-puffing show had formed.

“There is no reason to cause her harm, her soul has been returned to a normal state.” Castiel said gruffly, still holding onto his own blade, but of course he was hesitant about killing his brothers and sisters. But from what June know about him, he would act without flinching if the need be.

“You know that does not matter, brother.” The only female angel stated and shifted her stance. “Her soul’s current state does not change what it was previously.”

“We fixed it. Her soul is normal, your job is to protect God’s creations.” Castiel snapped back. One of the men, one who was actually sporting a priest’s apparel shifted from foot to foot nervously.

“I haven’t done anything wrong, it wasn’t my fault. We fixed it, it’s done, irreversible.” June tried, though she of course still held tight to the knife in her hand.

“We do not wish harm upon her or any.” The woman explained further, though her words gave no reassurance to anyone.

“Lower your blades, brothers and sisters.” Gabriel’s voice said from beside June. She flinched at the same time as Sam spun his blade to Gabriel. But he had already moved to stand between the angels and June’s defenders.

“Holy crap.” Sam stammered and he visibly faltered for a second. Gabriel turned his head to wink at them before turning back toward the angels. A glance toward Dean informed June that he was just as baffled.

“We can joke about how bad I played y’all later.” Gabriel said and smiled softly before turning back to the other angels. “You have no reason to be here, guys.” Gabriel said and sauntered a step toward them. Two of them, the woman and the priest, seemed quite nervous about Gabriel’s arrival.

“Gabriel,” Castiel said with a nod of the head and June scoffed; he knew about Gabriel all along.

 “Do not put yourself in harm’s way to stop the command of heaven, Gabriel.” A different male angel said, this one with short cut blonde hair. “We wish her no harm. She is to be relocated to heaven.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” June said and raised her eyebrows. It was even now, but there was still reason to be extremely wary. This thought was confirmed as the blonde angel leaped forward and locked arms with Gabriel and Castiel. An older angel- a wiry man with shaggy brown hair- leaped into action as well. Sam and Dean moved forward and grabbed at him, but he tossed Sam’s grip and knocked him to the ground with a knee to his gut. Dean spun him around and June moved forward and grabbed Sam’s blade and shoved it toward Dean. He took it, but was knocked aside. Castiel swept behind the older angel and locked his arm around his throat in a chokehold of sorts.

“Cease the action!” Gabriel shouted as he dropped the body of the blonde angel he reluctantly had killed. “Look at her!” He bellowed, and the majority of the action slowed. The angel fighting Castiel jerked his way free and scampered back. “Look at her soul- it’s _normal_ , there is nothing wrong with it. The demons hunting her have been killed, you’re trying to kill an innocent human.” He hissed and raised his hands to his sides. Sam moved to stand in front of June, but she stepped aside in order to watch what was going on. While Gabriel had been talking, she noticed the priest and woman hadn’t moved, and both looked as if they were going to be sick from all the fighting and deaths of their brothers. But the man with the shaggy hair ignored Gabriel and lunged forward, and the woman followed. They were scared- June was picking it up. To be fair, she was too. Sam moved forward to help and she slipped behind Dean to face the priest still standing awkwardly.

With a shaky hand, she stuffed it into her hair to brush her feather. He blinked and watched her, and as soon as she knew she had his attention she began fighting for her right to live.

“What happened wasn’t my fault, and it can’t happen again.” He glanced from her to the fight ensuing then back with wide eyes. The woman was shoved accidentally toward June and she leaped out of the way, unintentionally standing not too far from the priest- yet he didn’t make a move toward her, which was odd. “I fixed it, and it can’t be reversed. Hell doesn’t want me anymore, and neither should heaven.”

“June get back!” Castiel said and tugged her backward. The priest opened then closed his mouth. There was another flash of light and the shaggy haired man dropped to the ground. Dean jerked forward and locked his arm around the woman, holding her captive with a blade to her throat. Gabriel huffed and moved to June, putting himself where Castiel had stood.

“Anias. Brother. I know you didn’t like this plan.” Gabriel said quietly. The priest wavered and snapped his eyes to June.

“T-that is true.” He stammered.

“Go back to heaven and get everyone you know are not against June.” Gabriel commanded. Castiel leaned toward June,

“This action was an attempt of the dwindling numbers pursuing you.” He explained quietly in her ear. Gabriel turned toward Dean and nodded his head, and Dean reluctantly released the woman and kicked her away from them. She stumbled forward and instantly the two angels were gone. Everyone relaxed, but luckily Sam and Dean were smart enough to hold back questions for a short time, because Gabriel immediately turned to June.

“Castiel and I have got all of the angels who are on your side gathered. There are barely any left chasin’ you. Now even less.” June nodded her head and looked around, avoiding the dead bodies scattered around. Sam had a cut on his eyebrow and Dean was favoring his left hand, but her group seemed mostly unscathed. “Do you trust me?” Gabriel said, hooking her attention.

“Of course.” She replied. He glanced at the boys and raised his eyebrows,

“Be right back,” And placed a hand on June’s shoulder. She felt her ears pop and when she blinked, there were no longer in the bunker.

“Um,” June started, then snapped her mouth shut. They were in her heaven- in the park. Not only was that a surprise, but also there must have been over a hundred angels sitting and standing around. “Gabe.” She murmured nervously and turned to stare at him with wide eyes. He nodded his head and put his arm over his shoulder. All of the angels quieted down and their eyes locked on June. Instantly she felt like she was going to drown from all the attention and the stiff energy of her surroundings, but Gabriel calmly stepped forward with her and walked toward the group of three standing nearest.

“Nothing will happen to you while I’m here,” Gabriel explained quietly to June before he grinned and shook hands with the nearest, a woman.

“Chamel, Jodiah.” He stated politely then turned to face the majority.

“You all can see her, you can see her soul,” He spoke, barely raising his voice. “There is no reason for any of you, or any of heaven, to be called to retrieve her or her soul. Cease all action to do so.” He straightened his jacket and turned back to face June. “Do you feel up for doing some ‘Q and ‘A? All of the angels here believe you are healed, and don’t think anyone should keep bothering you after all you’ve been through. You wanna tell ‘em in person what you’ve been through?” She laughed nervously and slowly nodded her head.

\----------

“June.” Castiel’s voice was the first thing June heard when she stumbled a step forward in the bunker. Gabriel had sent her home, and upon glancing over where the boys were, she had barely been gone a minute. Dean cursed and jumped away at her sudden appearance out of thin air, and Sam stepped forward with vivid confusion on his face.

“What the heck?” He snapped and turned to glance at Dean, “You can’t just leave with angels that are supposed to be dead.” He stammered, but faltered when he noticed the smile on June’s mouth. What had felt like an hour in heaven had been stuffed as full as it could get with June answering questions and reciting the basic events of her life, and right now the smile and words of approval from the angels on her side was still pushing excited adrenaline through her veins. Dean walked over and he looked at her with a confused face, but the corner of his mouth still pulled up a little bit. “What?”

“Heaven’s on my side.” She replied, letting a grin spread across her mouth. Sam blinked and went to say something, but June moved forward and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. Her eyes stung with tears of joy. “You guys,” She said and moved backwards to look at them both with a smile stretching across her face, “I’m finally free- of my soul problems, of heaven, of hell; I’m free.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone who stuck with me and read this- I really appreciate it and totally accept comments or people letting me know about grammatical errors. Thanks again, I'm super excited about posting my first fanfic, 'specially since it turned out to be much bigger than I expected! :)


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